Right at Your Door

Citizens of Los Angeles: You are screwed. Three "dirty" bombs have gone off around the city, and from his home near Dodger Stadium, Brad (Rory Cochrane) is frantically trying to phone his wife, Lexi (Mary McCormack). After failing to reach her, Brad follows the advice of frantic radio announcers and seals every crevice and cranny of the house, so that no toxin-loaded air—or toxin-loaded human—can get inside. Just then, of course, a coughing Lexi shows up, demanding entrance. As setups go, this one, devised by art director (Minority Report) turned writer-director Chris Gorak, is terribly precious, and in a less threatening age might have been an easy one to shrug off, like one of those old Twilight Zonemorality plays about the end of the world. Many still will, but Right At Your Dooris grounded hard by some terrific smoking-skyline special effects and by Cochrane and McCormack's intensity. They're impressively unsentimental, even as tears stream down their faces for most of the movie. Secondary characters—a lost neighborhood child and an equally lost gardener—ring less true, and feel like wan attempts to pad the plot. The ending, by the way, is ridiculous (let's hope), yet totally unnerving.