
Year: 2017
Rated R
Rating: * 1/2 Stars
Cast: Al Pacino, Karl Urban, Brittany Snow
With a couple of car chases, the occasional fast cutting, and some tepid gore, I give you 2017's Hangman (my latest review). In veracity, Hangman is the type of flick that David Fincher would watch and laugh his butt off in reverse envy.
Hangman's story involves just another sicko who murders people. Said murderer whose makeup seems laughable and trite, offs randoms according to the outline of a children's guessing game called Hangman (hence the name of the film).
Hangman, which could've been titled 11 PM (don't ask), is like every other serial killer movie ever made. Its ending has a jolt or two but it's not enough. Hangman is unoriginal, conventional, uninspiring, silly, and totally paint-by-numbers. Al Pacino stars and totes dyed hair, dyed goatee remnants, and a sleep-induced Louisiana accent.
In truth, I couldn't recommend Hangman unless I was paid to do so. Director Johnny Martin never seems to generate any tension or palatable intrigue throughout. With Hangman, Johnny boy fidgets relentlessly with image after image of darkened gruesomeness. It seems fitting considering that he can't seem to light a scene so that the viewer has a clear idea of what's going on.

Bottom line: Hangman is probably one of the dopiest thrillers since 2004's Suspect Zero (that's the pic where Aaron Eckhart whines on occasion). As a Redbox time spacer, it just can't "hang". Rating: 1 and a half stars.
Written by Jesse Burleson
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