ALONE IN THE DARK 2

Edward Carnby is stabbed with a cursed knife and through the wound spreads an infection that constantly puts him in contact with a parallel dimension inhabited by a witch determined to extend her dominion over our reality. Carnby is rescued by Dexter and his daughter Natalie who, along with the help of the occult expert Prof. Lundbert, will try to save the man and prevent the witch from carrying out her plan. Do you remember "Alone in the Dark", i.e., the confirmation of Uwe Boll's lack of talent? Unfortunately yes, you say? Well, for the happiness of all masochists, here comes the direct-to-video "Alone in the Dark 2", the most explicit demonstration that having hit rock bottom does not mean you can only rise, but that it is possible to dig even deeper. "Alone in the Dark 2" is the Disaster, with the "D" capitalized, one of those films that at the end of the viewing makes you slightly shake your head and with a tight smile makes you wonder "how did they do it?" You fail on all, but really ALL, fronts already in the pre-production phase with a stupid and confusing story as rarely happened in recent times. Just read the brief plot at the top of this article to realize the idiocy of a plot that seems ingenuously ridiculous and highly improbable. Saying that the idea of giving a sequel to Boll's film, which was a resounding economic flop, has something unsettling about it, but the possibilities of managing to do better than the predecessor were really all there, even considering that the material to draw from (five chapters of the eponymous video game) provided a great variety of impact situations. And instead the screenwriters and directors Michael Roesch and Peter Scheerer decided not only to highly disregard the Infogrames video games but also to gloss over with much nonchalance what the first film was. Therefore, if in the 2005 feature film there was an Edward Carnby played by Christian Slater who at least tried to resemble the occult investigator of the video game saga, here we have an Edward Carnby without art or part, involved in the events by pure chance and moreover played by the Asian actor (!!!) Rick Yune. The disastrous screenplay signed by Roesch and Scheerer give the worst of themselves and put together an endless series of absurdities that wallow in the most glaring involuntary ridiculousness: if the narrative construction has peaks of absurd ingenuity that leave you stunned, there are real "geniuses" that make it really difficult to believe that the two authors are of sound mind. Just think that the infamous witch is attracted to bullets (why not, we don't know) and despite everyone knowing and repeating it several times, at the appearance of the ectoplasmic hag they do nothing but empty entire magazines against her. Another peak of genius is represented by the unmotivated ambiguity of Prof. Lundbert, who seems to hide secrets and only tell half-truths, only to suddenly and completely abandon his mysterious behaviors, making him effectively the helper and mentor of the hero. But do we want to remember then the infallible method of the professor to prevent Carnby from not being identified in his sleep by the witch? A radioactive potion (yes, the green glowing one, like in cartoons) injected into the cheek (the cheek?) that would obscure the aura of the soul... do you realize? Speechless. And then there are continuity errors scattered here and there, the dagger that first cannot be touched by anyone because venomous and then gripped in the hand of anyone, characters thrown there without reason (Lundbert's wife, Danny Trejo, Zack Ward of Boll, the pseudo-soldiers of the occult at the beginning led by Sean Connery's son...), the ridiculous witch who resembles the black lady who wanders in "La Casa 5" by Fragasso, the horrible special effects, the spatial inaccuracies (the witch's lair is in the basement of a building in a large metropolis but when the protagonists come out they find themselves in a forest!), and so much more that would seriously re-evaluate the works of our Andrea Bianchi. What surprises the most is the artistic cast composed of very well-known faces to the public of genre cinema that seems to have been assembled imitating Rob Zombie's selection criteria, usually good character actors who in the hands of the two unfortunate directors manage to offer the worst of themselves. If Lance Henricksen is sufficiently credible as Lundbert, Bill Moseley seems inadequate and incapable as Dexter, not to mention the underutilized Danny Trejo put there to play the role of the "man who knows how to fix the boiler and dies first." In the role of Ludbert's wife even P.J. Soles appears, known for "Halloween - The Night of the Witches" and survivor of "The Devil's House." The protagonists, on the other hand, seem to have been carefully chosen among the worst actors available: Rachel Specter ("The House Bunny"; "Let the End Begin") is the typical pretty girl who will probably fill the direct-to-video of the future; Rick Yune ("Fast and Furious") is simply unpresentable. Boll, who evidently has money to burn, this time limits himself to producing. At this point only a third chapter directed by David DeCoteau could carry on the tradition of this saga.