Panic Room

The cinematic equivalent to a white-knuckle showground ride, Panic Room is all about mechanically-engineered excitement, not mental engagement, and depending on your idea of a good time, a relief when it's over.

Cross-fertilizing the bleak violence of Se7en (1995) with the ante-upping plot twists and turns of The Game (1997) and belying the impressive opening titles, Fincher comes up with something that is less than eitherfilm (and perhaps writer and action thriller specialist David Koepp should be held responsible for the various plot holes).

Forest Whitaker provides a measure of three-dimensionality with his rather stereotypical crook-who's-really-a-nice-guy, country singer Dwight Yoakum is the stereotypical bad guy whilst Jodie Foster's manufactured cleavage should have received separate billing in what is arguably Fincher's most disappointing film to date.

 

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