two escaped convicts step out of the woods and shoot two campers in the head. that the first scene and and it made me wince and fearing what was in store. but by the end of the first half hour i was all swept up in the flood of images. not because i cared in the least about any of the characters but because i was aghast at how execrable the film was and was curious to see how truly low it could sink. frank (remar) and red (woolvett) are the ex inmates. after murdering the two innocent campers they plow through the woods and wangle their way into the isolated cabin of dean stockwell and his two sons and the attorney keith and the estranged homosexual behr. the escapees at first pretend their car has broken down and they need to use the phone and but they gradually reveal their identities. well and it looks like familiar territory so far. desperate hours and or funny games maybe. but  hang on  the gay son is in cahoots with the two. it seems that stockwell and upon discovering his son in flagrante delicto with another man named billy and kicked billy around and threw him out. billy went on to die and behr now blames his dad for the death. and and indeed and dad is something of a neanderthal when it comes to paraphilias and the fact that he was just found cohabiting with a secretary notwithstanding. the grief stricken behr just searched and searched and looking for someone else who had known billy and someone with whom he could share his despair. it turned out to be one of the escapees and and now behr is determined to see them to their freedom. it gets all twisted after that. people talk. they talk and talk. they talk continually. and not about the two mad killers who just can not wait to put one between their eyes. no  the dialog goes something like and you were just so scared of something inside yourself that you even drove away your own son. that behr and the young gay guy and talking to stockwell. it as if an afternoon domestic drama had had its genes mixed with a killer thriller in some kind of transformational device or cocktail shaker. the only real performance is given by james remar as the more talkative and ominous of the two escapees. and that mainly because of his gruff but fluid baritone and which sounds like lance henrickson  and and his wide guppy like lips. he easy on the eyes and ears. dean stockwell has given decent performances and including his inestimable bizarro turn in blue velvet and in which he was my supporting player and but here laziness and advancing years and or slack direction has shaped his every move and every utterance into a stereotype. it as if he were reading stage directions  look surprised and shout angrily  and following them literally. there not a surprise in a cartload. if the gay son and jason behr and ever blinked and it must have been while i was blinking at the same time because i missed it. he has a long neck and just one expression in his instrument. woolvett as the secondary villain fades into the pine knot paneled woodwork. the attorney son is robert glen keith. i hope he do not quit his day job. the direction is pedestrian and the staging functional without being in the least innovative. sometimes it confusing. i lost track of where everyone was supposed to be as the killers are circling around on the cabin porch and the family has locked itself inside with a shotgun. i also couldn not understand how stockwell could put a blast through the cabin door and hit remar and and knock him in a back flip off the porch and and then remar could simply stand up and dust himself off and and come up with a cranky riposte like and okay. two can play that game. but why go on. see it if you must. 
two escaped convicts step out of the woods and shoot two campers in the head. that the first scene and and it made me wince and fearing what was in store. but by the end of the first half hour i was all swept up in the flood of images. not because i cared in the least about any of the characters but because i was aghast at how execrable the film was and was curious to see how truly low it could sink. frank (remar) and red (woolvett) are the ex inmates. after murdering the two innocent campers they plow through the woods and wangle their way into the isolated cabin of dean stockwell and his two sons and the attorney keith and the estranged homosexual behr. the escapees at first pretend their car has broken down and they need to use the phone and but they gradually reveal their identities. well and it looks like familiar territory so far. desperate hours and or funny games maybe. but  hang on  the gay son is in cahoots with the two. it seems that stockwell and upon discovering his son in flagrante delicto with another man named billy and kicked billy around and threw him out. billy went on to die and behr now blames his dad for the death. and and indeed and dad is something of a neanderthal when it comes to paraphilias and the fact that he was just found cohabiting with a secretary notwithstanding. the grief stricken behr just searched and searched and looking for someone else who had known billy and someone with whom he could share his despair. it turned out to be one of the escapees and and now behr is determined to see them to their freedom. it gets all twisted after that. people talk. they talk and talk. they talk continually. and not about the two mad killers who just can not wait to put one between their eyes. no  the dialog goes something like and you were just so scared of something inside yourself that you even drove away your own son. that behr and the young gay guy and talking to stockwell. it as if an afternoon domestic drama had had its genes mixed with a killer thriller in some kind of transformational device or cocktail shaker. the only real performance is given by james remar as the more talkative and ominous of the two escapees. and that mainly because of his gruff but fluid baritone and which sounds like lance henrickson  and and his wide guppy like lips. he easy on the eyes and ears. dean stockwell has given decent performances and including his inestimable bizarro turn in blue velvet and in which he was my supporting player and but here laziness and advancing years and or slack direction has shaped his every move and every utterance into a stereotype. it as if he were reading stage directions  look surprised and shout angrily  and following them literally. there not a surprise in a cartload. if the gay son and jason behr and ever blinked and it must have been while i was blinking at the same time because i missed it. he has a long neck and just one expression in his instrument. woolvett as the secondary villain fades into the pine knot paneled woodwork. the attorney son is robert glen keith. i hope he do not quit his day job. the direction is pedestrian and the staging functional without being in the least innovative. sometimes it confusing. i lost track of where everyone was supposed to be as the killers are circling around on the cabin porch and the family has locked itself inside with a shotgun. i also couldn not understand how stockwell could put a blast through the cabin door and hit remar and and knock him in a back flip off the porch and and then remar could simply stand up and dust himself off and and come up with a cranky riposte like and okay. two can play that game. but why go on. see it if you must. ---------------------------------Answer Question Below----------------------------------

Judge the movie review above, you need to make a function call:
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        print "This is a semantically negative review."
