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When
a storm hits, flooding the surrounding roads, ten strangers find themselves stranded in
an old motel: a family of three, an aging starlet and her limo driver, a pair of
newlyweds, a cop transporting a convict, and a Vegas call girl. One by one, the
travelers are killed—and the survivors, led by ex-cop-turned-limo-driver Ed (John Cusack)
and the cop, Rhodes (Ray Liotta), gather together and try to capture the
killer.
Meanwhile, in what initially feels like an unrelated plot line,
convicted serial killer Malcolm Rivers (Pruitt Taylor Vince) is brought to a hearing on
the night before his execution, and his doctor (Alfred Molina) attempts, one last time,
to prove his insanity plea.
Identity is a psychological thriller
that keeps viewers guessing right up until the very end. Unfortunately, it also kept me
guessing afterwards. It’s not that the loose ends aren’t tied up in the end. They are.
But there are just too many holes along the way to really make it work.
The filmmakers tried to create a story that was as brilliant and
mind-boggling as Agatha Christie’s Ten Little
Indians, but they fell short. Identity could have been an excellent
film—in a Sixth Sense kind of way. Some of the pieces, in fact, fit together
ingeniously. Others, however, didn’t fit at all—and unfortunately, I can’t explain how
without giving away key parts of the story, so you’ll just have to trust me on this one.
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