David Brooks
ATM - Trappola Mortale

I wanted to watch it and write something about it.
I wanted to see it and write about it because many had written terrible things about it, yet they failed to convince me. In the end, that series of films started by "The Cube," set in a single environment with the aim of creating heaps of tension, had produced at least a couple of interesting little movies. If Boyle's "127 Hours" didn't drive me crazy, I still have an almost carnal attraction for "Open Water."

It's terrifying, embodies one of my greatest childhood fears (the shark, thanks to Spielberg), and throws it into the ocean for an hour, almost never taking the lens off it. Fins and open sea, scenes shot with sharks face-to-face with the actors, excellent shots, and almost amateur cameras. Tension on full throttle (yes, written like that, in the style of a metal band logo). They call them horror films, right? They're supposed to create tension, right? And so it's okay like this, no use arguing with those who tell you that the protagonists of "The Reef" (I think it was called that, I can't remember) acted horribly or that in "Altitude" the plot is almost more embarrassing than the acting. That's all marginal stuff revolving around a greater whirlwind of breath-holding emotions, if you can understand that then good, if you don't notice that, explain to me why you came to watch a film of that genre???

Then, over time, the game became worn out, someone smelled the business and jumped in. Thus, the mediocre "Frozen" and the awful "Buried" were released worldwide, and more or less managed to bring money into the production coffers. In short, it's now a microgenre, and like all microgenres, it has its flaws and its merits. But above all, it has its aficionados. Those who see one they like and then always keep hoping. They end up watching them all and actually managing to enjoy them (I liked the aforementioned "Altitude"... An embarrassing film but what can I say, if you at least try to create "tenscion and saspens" you get me as you want).

Belonging to this unfortunate circle of socially disturbed people, I was seriously anticipating this film. Not in the cinema, of course, but I was waiting for it; ignoring all the prejudices that reviewers and self-proclaimed ones were trying to force into my brain with almost pathological insistence.
So, I started watching it with the best intentions. With the desire to discover those three decent seconds in 90 minutes of probable sludge, and to elevate myself as the supreme pontiff of cinematic art. To silence you and the entire global critique. To show you what can be noticed in a film with a keen eye, four bags of popcorn, and zero expectations. Not only that, I also wanted to show you how small details can modify the entire development of cinema history. With a bit of imagination, you can say and probably prove that even the reboot of Spiderman (launched ten years after the first chapter of the now old Raimi saga) is, all things considered, an important turning point in the history of cinema. I don't see why it should have been difficult to say that about a film that was extremely easy to defend since it was enough to say "it's not true it's a crap film, you're the ones looking for chocolate in a delicatessen" (I stole this one from someone clever). Then, after about twenty minutes I couldn't take it: I stopped watching and started taking notes (something I've never done before in my life).

At the fifty-sixth minute of viewing, after a flat ordeal consisting of nothing and void, a door slams making me jump for a fraction of a second. Taken by disbelief, I stop the film, document my incredible mix of astonishment and anger brought by that moment on paper, close the document, don't save because I'm too dumb and pissed off to think, and I practically lose everything.

Without those notes, writing the review as I wanted to is impossible. There's no hope I can remember every single absurdity worthy of being highlighted to better render the idea of the trash you're in. Or perhaps the reality is much simpler, and after watching this cinematic abomination I have no further intention of wasting my time on it.

What follows is what survived my idiocy (a few lines hastily thrown together). I don't know if it does justice to the general disdain the film provokes in every component, but it's all I managed to save from the abyss of ATM.

*** The logic of popcorn vs. basic inability= Even "Altitude" is saved, and "The Cube" will always be <>***

The funniest thing is the actors trying to create an atmosphere when it's obvious the director doesn't give a damn.
You can't, you can't, the story is crap but who cares: I adore "Altitude"! "Altitude": the disdain of cinema, the disgust... I love it, I'm not picky, I don't ask for anything... But you can't make a horror film set in a single location and treat the situation like we're at Bay Side School... They gave you a composer, didn't they, use him when needed! Not even the trick of tilting the camera comes to your mind?

Is it a horror? Shoot a horror!!!

(This is where I lost the notes, you're missing parts I can't remember and a ton of invective directed at direction and production)

Among the many funny things about the film, I think that after three days from watching it, the only thing that might stick in the viewer's head is the charisma of a grain of rice of the mysterious villain. Yes, I know: "villain" isn't a very professional term. But you have to adapt to the standards of the subject matter...

The film ends in a way I would love to tell you about but you wouldn't believe me. Please believe that when I thought of a definition for this film the first thing that came to my mind was "nothing surrounded by nothing starting from nothing and leading to nothing". The big problem with this definition is that it doesn't do justice to the perfidy that slithers between the frames of this film. It's pure cruelty, exploitation of hype seasoned with total disregard for the playing field. A nascent genre is taken (useless, sure, but before it became a genre it was The Cube, which was one of the most effective thrillers ever released and no one should dare to object to that) and it's suicided in the name of "well, it sells anyway". Having the money and spending it randomly, producing crap knowingly. "Boris' writers" would have written it with more commitment, and David the gnome would have directed it better. Or at least with more spirit.

One of the characters dies in such an improbable way that I watched all the end credits (something that in light of certain things for the love of cinema one should NEVER do) hoping for a "You fell for it, see how well they are". It didn't come, but any sane person can only agree that that blonde, almost useless to nothing, couldn't have died like that... What do you say??? Yes, you're right: it's a spoiler... I've ruined the viewing for you... Now you won't watch this film anymore because of me... Sure... I'll even accept checks, thank you.

End of notes.

I realize I should tell you that ATM is about three guys who enter an ATM booth and, because of the presence of a big guy outside the door (perhaps more than outside it would be correct to say "30 meters from the door") decide not to exit. And also tell you that the big guy is indeed a villain and tries to drown them in the ATM booth (or by stretching a random rope outside so when they escape they hit it with their neck and get knocked out. Yes, it's true: Kevin's traps in "Home Alone" were more likely, but I can't do anything about it: this is how the film really is).

However, I don't think it's that important to tell you the non-story of this non-film. I think it's more relevant to tell you that in the end, everyone dies except for the protagonist who is unjustly accused of the murders, and the villain gets away without anyone knowing why he decided to become the second most forgettable death angel in cinema history. I'm telling you this because I care about you. I know you don't believe me, but it ends like this. In a scene that tells you: here he is the villain has won. The end. Moreover, it's a scene so loaded with pathos that compared to what you've seen so far it seems like you're on the set of "Rec"; and you wonder: "you jerk, not before, huh?". I swear, it ends exactly like this. Hate me if you want, I know I've done a good deed.

I've just realized that there was already a review practically identical to this one, but after watching this film, at least let me vent.

And that's all.