In Dreams

Somehow, there's something even ickier about a routine, exploitative horror film that tarts up its routineness and exploitation with plenty of style. Such is the case with Neil Jordan's In Dreams, a psycho-thriller where atmospheric creepiness disintegrates into a chase-n-terrorize puree. Annette Bening stars as a New England woman who becomes psychically connected to a serial killer of young children, and finds that the connection is mutual when her own daughter disappears. For a while it the film holds out promise, with visually compelling photography by Darius Khondji (Seven) and a dramatic arc that takes Bening's character into a compelling madness. Then, gradually, it starts to lose its way. Partly it seems rushed, with scenes slammed together too quickly to create foreboding; partly it seems sloppy, increasingly depending upon ridiculous contrivances; and partly it seems mean-spirited, using graphic murders for shock value or imperiled children for sympathy instead of building interest in its characters. When Robert Downey Jr. finally appears as the serial killer/cross-dresser--decked out in flowing red tresses, whispering in an effeminate drawl and exercising every ghastly overacting muscle in his body simultaneously--the film careens out of control entirely. To be fair to Downey, the role is a serial killer cliché (Norman Bates, anyone?), dashing any hope of a true mind-game showdown. Instead, it's all sharp objects and guns, running and screaming, until a bleak, confounding and unsatisfying resolution. Not recommended. (S. Renshaw)