Struggling novelist Ellen Carter (a fine portrayal by Harriet Robinson) suspects that her mysterious new tenant Leslie Steckler (an excellent and serenely creepy performance by Peter Firth) is a serial killer who has murdered over a dozen women. Director Chris Jones, who also co-wrote the absorbing script with Genevieve Jollifee, relates the engrossing story at a steady pace, firmly grounds the premise in a totally plausible everyday reality, makes the most out of the claustrophobic flat setting, and spruces things up with several snazzy stylistic flourishes (the frequent use of black and white is especially neat). The top-rate acting by Firth and Robinson holds the picture together; the tense battle of wit and wills between their characters is gripping throughout and culminates in a deliciously ironic surprise ending that packs one hell of a strong punch. Firth makes for a genuinely chilling psycho whose deceptively calm, quiet, and pleasant demeanor masks his scary capacity for extreme brutal violence. Moreover, there are sturdy supporting contributions by Don Henderson as the pesky Inspector Taylor, Catherine Arton as the sweet and chipper Mik, and Caroline Staunton as Steckler's shrill emasculating wife. Jon Walker's slick cinematography gives the movie an impressive glossy look. The rattling score by Harry Gregson-Williams hits the shivery spot. A real sleeper.
Review of White Angel
