It is the time of "immobile" films, of men unable to move due to external causes. "Buried" by the Spaniard Rodrigo Cortes and "127 Hours" by Danny Boyle are two recent titles of a new film philosophy that focuses on claustrophobia and the impossibility of escape to amaze and grip the viewer.

Riding the wave of the previously mentioned films (and many others that have followed over the years), the debut filmmaker Michael Greenspan decided to build his first cinematic work, accompanied by the screenwriter Christopher Dodd, from whom the idea of making such a film was born.

The chosen actor, the one who will have the camera pointed at him for the entire duration of the film, is Adrien Brody, awarded an Oscar in 2003 for his performance in Roman Polanski's film "The Pianist." He is stuck in a car following a road accident of which he remembers nothing: he doesn't even remember his name. Nothing at all. He will learn from the radio that he is somehow involved in a robbery. His goal is clear: survive.

There is very little else in Greenspan's film: some interesting shots of the splendid location chosen for the film and then nothing. A work that appears "fake" and "poorly constructed" from the start, without bite, without insights, without a valid reason to exist. Just one aspect is enough to define the level of "Wrecked": since the protagonist is alone, the screenplay is almost entirely absent. Few lines, lots of silence. Yet in a very poor script, there's the masterpiece: the protagonist who seems to have lost his memory due to the accident remembers having a dog years ago and even recalls its name. Then he doesn't know how he ended up in that mess and why, but the dog from his childhood is well imprinted in his mind.

In short, wanting to overlook this episode and also willing to turn a blind eye to a Brody not certainly at his best, "Wrecked" offers nothing, in every aspect. Scenes seen dozens of times, typical clichés of the genre, and originality below zero. Liquid poop.

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