They're trying, bless their hearts.
Suffice it to say that 2013's Dark Touch did not excite me. I had seen a review that said "An Irish Carrie" and my 2 in the morning brain said "OKAY!" and now I'm relatively certain that there are parts of me that are dead only I don't know it yet.
Besides my pancreas. That bitch done gave up the ghost months ago.
Fuck you, Pancreas.
On the upside, I am now part zombie.
ANYWAY! So, yeah. Telekinetic teenagers. We know them. We love them. We know that abuse is going to cause a big, ole psychotic snappy-snap that's going to leave many, many bodies behind. They are human suffering and revenge writ large.
Except not in this movie.
Because in this movie, the plot hung around our young monster's neck like a fuckin' cinder block.
|Jesus, can you whine MORE about playing with a damn doll?|
We get a party of girls who almost, but not quite, touch the fire that's 4 fuckin' feet away from them and even her big "fuck you", Pied-Piper moment to a town that doesn't believe her or want to help her (except for, y'know, the cops, the people that took her in and her counselor and her teacher and a whole crap-load of people that she's never met) is a throwaway.
|THIS... is as menacing as she gets.|
Skip this with a fuckin' song in your heart.
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