“EEEEEKKKKK. Scary liquid!”
It’s bad enough that Dahlia’s (Jennifer Connelly) marriage has just broken down, and she has had to settle for a dingy little apartment to rebuild her and daughter Natasha’s life.
But it gets worse, because of course it does. It starts with a few drips, then gets worse. The real estate agent (John C Reilly) is empathetic but not much help. The building’s handyman Mr Vek (Peter Postlethwaite) is surly and offers even less assistance, and all the while the ex-husband sprinkles more doubt and trepidation over Dahlia’s fragile psyche.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Natasha has trouble at school, and she has an imaginary friend. Now the hall is damp. Are those water stains on the ceiling.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
What is that noise from upstairs? Isn’t upstairs empty? Did I just see the ‘imaginary’ friend? Now the elevator leaks.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
That new lawyer (Tim Roth) seems OK. Why is Natasha suddenly so disagreeable and opinionated? Now the washing machine is going crazy!
What is it with all this… DARK WATER?!?!?
For a film that starts in such an unassuming manner, Dark Water gets progressively sillier as it goes along, and the more you think about it the more ridiculous it gets. Jennifer Connelly and her magnificent eyebrows do all they can to make it credible, even though she has zero chance of getting her Naomi Watts on with this material.
Overlong, non-scary and totally inessential, this is a dreary and drab mess of a film.
Final Rating – 5.5 / 10. It’s too easy just to say that this is ‘wet’. Far more accurate to say that Dark Water is just like it sounds, it’s bad for you and it stinks.
