“Why, when the original was so good?” queried Stephen King, bewildered his debut novel of telekinetic revenge was to be filmed again, decades after Brian De Palma utterly nailed it.
One might reasonably have expected director Kimberly Peirce (Boys Don’t Cry) to bring something raw, affecting and insightful to the table – and if this had been half as good as its hidden-camera promo stunts, it might have been worth it.
Alas, Chloë Grace Moretz is miscast in an oft beat-for-beat facsimile that’s both pointless and bloodless.
Sport & Auto
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