The only redeeming quality of this film is David Hyde Pierce. Everything else is a disaster. It's as if an alien watched 50 years of horror movies and tried to mimic them without understanding any of it. Despite being a color film, the palette is mostly black and white, with an overwhelming amount of black, making it difficult to discern what's happening half the time.
The script is utterly incomprehensible. At one point, Russell Crowe dramatically arches backward, seemingly breaking his spine in front of a studio audience, then falls out of an apartment window. Moments later, he's back, not as a demon, but as himself. He's alive. What just happened?
Characters behave in ways no real person would. Who wrote this mess? Who approved it? Why does it even exist? Setting aside these questions, the film is just plain dull, except for the moments when it unintentionally becomes hysterically funny, which happens quite often.
The script is utterly incomprehensible. At one point, Russell Crowe dramatically arches backward, seemingly breaking his spine in front of a studio audience, then falls out of an apartment window. Moments later, he's back, not as a demon, but as himself. He's alive. What just happened?
Characters behave in ways no real person would. Who wrote this mess? Who approved it? Why does it even exist? Setting aside these questions, the film is just plain dull, except for the moments when it unintentionally becomes hysterically funny, which happens quite often.