Crooked House

Too much mystery, not enough pay off. The first hour is good, but then it loses steam and sputters along until the end. Shame.

The first part is great, the detective quips during the interrogations for the benefit of the audience. The mystery is upheld, everyone can be the killer.

After no new leads, the detective forces new leads by coming up with a pretext for a lively family dinner. Not only has everyone could have offed the old man, they are all practically at each other’s throats too (how Christie-an).

All hell breaks loose when a second testament shows up, leaving everything to the younger granddaughter, the one who hired the detective (after meeting him in the biblical sense some months before).

The wildcard is always the older auntie, the one that first appears shotgunning moles on the garden, and goes out on similar spectacular fashion, but taking someone else with her.


This is my place for ramblings about sequences of images that exploit the human visual limitation know as persistence of vision.

Ephemera of Vision