Time Out saysEvans' antsy follow-up to 'My Little Eye' sees Firth letting himself go as Ben, a car-accident casualty who wakes up from a coma to find himself caught between the deaths of two women: his wife Elisa (Harris), killed in the same crash, and pop singer Lauren Paris, murdered beside Hackney Canal. Looking to piece his life back together, he repairs to a cavernous apartment in a semi-converted East End hospital, sets up an ant colony in his living room, and befriends a new-agey American neighbour (Suvari) who professes a fear of spiders. Brooding several shades grizzlier than his well-worn norm, Firth's essay in self-estrangement is the most compelling thing in this overwritten psychodrama. Evans employs skewed, fractured visuals, jumpy edits and non-diegetic sound effects to get inside Ben's head and under our skin, but it's too much, overcooked, and the story doesn't hold.
Unfortunately this film contains everything that is bad about British film-making. A pretentious screenplay, seedy London locations, boredom-inducing camera angles, indulgent directionwith contempt for the audience. It's not the actors' fault . . .. they couldn't have known it was going to be this bad. .. It's best features are its short playing-time and its economy . .. ie . . . not that much money wasted on producing it.