Those nutty cinematic serial killers—always taunting their pursuers with omniscient brilliance, always devising those elaborate crime-scene installations, yet somehow finding time to add that little something extra (death's-head moth larvae, ornate nods to the seven deadly sins, etc.) that means so much to a grumpy forensic investigator. The gimmick here is anamorphosis, the forced-perspective trick by which an image from one angle looks like something completely different from another angle; that means guilt-ridden CSI vet Willem Dafoe, just back from Anton Chigurh's barber, must decode the grisly tableaux of an artist whose principal media are blood, sharp objects, and eviscerated corpses. Twenty-five years ago, the... More >>>