He Knows You're Alone

There's a psycho on the loose. Having once been traumatically jilted, Rolfing specialises in brutally despatching brides-to-be, and becomes obsessed with one in particular (O'Heaney). News reaches police chief Arlt, who snorts fire as his erstwhile bride-to-be was an early Rolfing victim. For a more curdled piece of chiller incompetence, this would be hard to beat. Newcomer Mastroianni directs with leaden predictability. A myopic eye for overblown and voyeuristic imagery, he moves from one murder to another, a synthesiser signpost helping to rob every spill of any surprise at all. The final twist is especially dumb and obvious. And characterisation means stereotype; Tupperware dialogue for passive women, racy dialogue for shower-room, protective men. It's almost distastefully bad.