I treasure Kevin Bacon (always have), Amanda Seyfried radiates goodness (as always, thought not an especially heavyweight actor), and newcomer Avery Tiiu Essex is a joy, but the film itself is a clunker; the sort we've seen many times, à la The Shining, or perhaps even heard about, à la the Eagles' Hotel California.
The whole production feels very thin and, eventually, wears thin...becoming truth in advertising.
I knew straight away that I shoulda left, but I hung on until the very end—hoping against hope it would turn magical.
Nay, it did not.
Don't check in to check it out. Just keep on driving.
