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It's hard for me to articulate how deeply I loathed this movie. It didn't provoke the white-hot anger that one gets when one is offended by laziness, crassness, or incompetence. It was just a listless, hopeless sort of loathing that what I was watching was never going to have any sort of pay off, any sort of compensation for experiencing another drip in the drip-drip-drip accumulation of movies (and shows) built around nothing and about nothing but terrorizing (usually) women. It didn't help that I generally like these performers. That just adds to my depression that there is nothing better out there for Moretz and Huppert (and presumably Jordan?) to do. There's a place at the end where--well, no I guess I won't give away "spoilers" (though, honestly whoever watches the first half of this movie and doesn't know how certain scenes in the second half are going to go is not someone I would have an otherwise deep conversation with)...let's just say it's the kind of movie, especially in the end, where we are supposed to root for cruelty and pain and suffering, allegedly as some sort of catharsis, I guess. The basic formula of these sort of movies is, I guess, let's subject a character to a lot of crap so that we can feel justified when the tables are turned. This is not a movie that is particularly worse than a lot of other terror-schlock, that's the worse part of it. If it were exceptionally bad, there would at least be comfort in that. Instead, it is just depressingly normal, and that makes you realize just how bad so many movies are.