If we measure thrillers in murders and mystery, this has both – the ‘murder’ of Martyn by a nefarious bannister, and the mystery of what the fuck was up with Anna’s arms.
I love how they’ve employed the old Western wardrobe palette of having the goodies in white, the baddies in black and the fucking clown in garish primary colours with the occasional panda shirt.
Any story where the high point of the narrative’s emotional tension is “Who does the dog like best” really deserves some respect.
Classic thriller opening scene. A little bit Madonna. A little bit Homebase. I genuinely feared for that man’s appendage though. How did it not snap?
I think she enjoys having poor barren Peyton creeping round after her. I think I might have also ended up trying to bash her head in with a shovel.
He’s like “She’s very beautiful”, “We can’t stop fucking”, “She gave up her job” and it just becomes a list of every tedious shitty interaction between men and women in all of literature.
I know your girlfriend is a post-goth NYC fine art photographer with a severe bob but in this case it’s probably not just her “being neurotic”.