Few films have left me with such a feeling of unease, and this is not a compliment. Since I saw it in a theater (How it ended there I can only wonder) I was subjected to 90 mn of hateful, derivative garbage, the main impression being a bit like this other sick-o movie "Don't answer the phone" - but worse. The nastiness of it all, rape and all, is shown without any distance (unlike strong stuff like "Last house on the left") and utter contempt for the (perfect ?) victims and everybody involved, leaving the viewer to be treated as a sadistic voyeur. At the end I felt like taking a shower. No credits to the director
Review of Perfect Victims
