Rituals

A derivative product with no bite, Peter Carter’s “Rituals” resembles a brutal rough cut of “Deliverance” (1972) by the great John Boorman.

This film’s demerits are numerous and range from a chronic lack of fresh ideas and a faltering screenplay to some drab performances (not even the usually fine Hal Holbrook is capable of keeping a sinking ship like this one afloat). Add to all that a finale featuring cinematography that verges on pitch black, making it tough for even the most eagle-eyed viewer to follow the action in many scenes.

As for the figure of the killer, his particular motivations (he turns out to be a disfigured freak of nature harboring a personal score to settle with the medical establishment) should constitute a relatively original take on the theme, but when it comes right down to it, the viewer is basically left witnessing atrocities perpetrated by a run-of-the-mill lunatic engaged in butchery that’s as indiscriminate as it is ugly.

Recently reassessed by a certain critic of the genre, the verdict remains one of a work dripping in mediocrity.