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 airor toxin-loaded humancan 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 Zone morality plays about the end of the world. Many still will, but Right At Your Door is 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 charactersa lost neighborhood child and an equally lost gardenerring less true, and feel like wan attempts to pad the plot. The ending, by the way, is ridiculous (let's hope), yet totally unnerving.
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