Surveillance
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After winning a not-so-coveted Worst Director Razzie Award for 1993’s Boxing Helena, director Jennifer Lynch (daughter of director David Lynch) took some time away from the spotlight before regrouping and stepping back behind the camera for Surveillance. But, apparently, those 15 years haven’t really taught her much.

In Surveillance, a couple of masked killers have struck a quiet little desert town, brutally killing a number of civilians and one local cop (French Stewart). But as Captain Billings (Michael Ironside) and the rest of his team try to plan their next move, two FBI agents are brought in to take over the case.

Agents Elizabeth Anderson (Julia Ormond) and Sam Hallaway (Bill Pullman—who, for some reason, seems to be channeling David Arquette) get right to work, much to the dismay of the local cops. They set up three separate rooms to interview the three witnesses: Officer Bennet (Kent Harper), partner of the murdered cop, aimless stoner Bobbi (Pell James), and nine-year-old Stephanie (Ryan Simpkins), whose entire family was murdered. But as the victims tell their side of the story, it becomes clear that each one is hiding something—and some may know more than they’re letting on.

In the beginning, Surveillance shows plenty of promise—a suspenseful thriller, albeit sprinkled with a few flashes of heightened gore and a few of the typical perplexing Lynch-style flourishes. The set-up is intriguing, as is the way in which the witnesses tell their side of the story while the actual scene plays out on the screen. It seems as if Lynch might be on to something.

But then it starts rolling downhill, becoming more and more peculiar and less and less enjoyable as it goes. The film is full of distractions, from the surprisingly awkward acting to the long, prolonged (and ridiculously obvious) shots of dead animals. But, then again, the distractions could be intentional—meant to distract the audience’s attention away from the unnatural dialogue and the predictable twist.

If you’re paying just a little bit of attention, you’ll see the end coming from a mile or so away—like a semi on an empty desert highway. In fact, after a while, Lynch simply gives up on trying to hide it. Instead, she decides to let everyone (except for a couple of the characters, of course) in on the big secret. Then, with nothing left to hold the audience’s attention, she attempts to shock them with some Natural Born Killers-style edginess—but even that feels forced and overdone and unnecessary.

Surveillance is a completely unsurprising experience. After all, there’s nothing surprising about David Lynch’s daughter writing and directing an edgy, eccentric thriller. Perhaps Ms. Lynch could have surprised audiences with a thought-provoking documentary—or even a light and entertaining romantic comedy. Instead, for her second feature, she’s offered up a perplexing mystery that’s really not much of a mystery at all. The more you think about it, the more frustrated you’ll become—so just save yourself the headache and watch something else.

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