Wes Craven's First 3-D Picture

Details

My Soul to Take
Directed by Wes Craven
Universal Pictures
Now playing

Related Content

• Detention
  April 11, 2012
• Q&A: Amy Klein On The Blue Star Band, Talking Back On Tumblr, And Patti Smith's Message To The Kids
  September 20, 2011
• The Year in Film: Handicapping the Poll
  December 21, 2011
• Tomorrow: Our 10 Most Challenging and Extreme Dishes in NYC
  November 4, 2010
• The Strange Stuff: Cinemania at Tribeca 2011
  April 20, 2011

More About

• Wes Craven
• Zena Grey
• William Blake
• Max Thieriot

Like this Story?

Sign up for the Events Newsletter: What's happening in town? From underground club nights to the biggest outdoor festivals, our top picks for the week's best events will always keep you in on the action.

Privacy Policy Cancel Continue

This is the first 3-D picture from Master of (Mediocre) Horror Wes Craven. I know it's in 3-D not because of any additional depth-of-field detectable in the image, but because I do not usually wear glasses, nor pay $17.50 for a movie. The conversion was done well after production, at the behest of avaricious rip-off artists who detest their potential customers. Anyhow. The film begins with the last hurrah of a small-town serial killer, a first ten minutes that sets the jabbering pace, as we're volleyed with multiple personalities, voodoo, exploding ambulances, and characters named "Abel" and "William Blake." Sixteen Years Later: The seven kids born on the night The Ripper's bloody reign ended gather for the annual "Ripper Day" anniversary observance. Shortly after, the resurrected Ripper, resembling a Klingon hobo, starts culling down the seven, leaving stage-blood and aborted subplots in his wake. There are shades of Elm Street, with suburban parents hiding dark secrets and a cast of young unknowns, including a good Max Thieriot as the unstable chief suspect and a striking redhead named Zena Grey. All are kept busy by the mile-a-minute exposition of Craven's 2,000-plus page Giallo-illogical script, which includes space for transmigrating souls and California Condors. All might be good for a flask-to-the-theater laugh, if not for the unconscionable price gouging.