See, that's what happens when you already watched as good as every semi-worthwhile horror movie of the 80s decade! You are stuck with the leftovers. The obscure movies with vaguely intriguing premises and perhaps 2 or 3 good moments of fright, but overall dull, confusion, and amateurishly made cheap trash! Like "Disconnected".
Let's at least start with the few positive notes. Lead actress Frances Sherman is gorgeous looking, frequently strips off her clothes, and - moreover - stars in a clichéd double role of the goody-goody Alicia and her own lewd twin sister Barbara Ann. Her main character Alicia works in a textbook early 80s video-store, and you just know she has good taste, because in her apartment there's a poster of Alfred Hitchcock's pitch-black comedy "The Trouble with Harry". And truth to be told, there was one truly genius and perplexing moment as well! When she's working at the video store, Alicia receives regular visits from a customer - Franklin - who doesn't have a VCR-player but only comes to see her and ask her out. After refusing a few times, Alicia eventually does want to meet up with Franklin and calls him up at home. While he's answering the phone and reacting genuinely happy that Alicia finally gives him a change, the camera zooms out and we suddenly see there's the bloodied corpse of a girl lying next to him on the bed. This clumsy but amiable kid has been a serial killer all along?
That was a great moment, honestly, but it's quickly forgotten again due to the script of "Disconnected" being so bad. There are so many things happening that don't make the slightest bit of sense! What's up with the old man in Alicia's apartment? Why are is there a police officer in Hawaiian shirt pretending he's giving an interview for a true-crime documentary? Why do the obscene phone calls sound like a baby-alien bursting out of the chest of John Hurt's chest?
All the weirdness and senselessness I can easily tolerate, but what I personally found truly insufferable were writer/director Gorman Bechard's lame tricks to stretch the running time. The movie is unnecessarily made longer through awful editing and pointless padding. During the love-making sequences, for instance, Bechard joyfully shows a long and tedious montage of everyday interior design objects. There's also a sequence that freezes on an ugly painting for such an unimaginably long time that I thought my DVD-player or the disc itself was broken.
Let's at least start with the few positive notes. Lead actress Frances Sherman is gorgeous looking, frequently strips off her clothes, and - moreover - stars in a clichéd double role of the goody-goody Alicia and her own lewd twin sister Barbara Ann. Her main character Alicia works in a textbook early 80s video-store, and you just know she has good taste, because in her apartment there's a poster of Alfred Hitchcock's pitch-black comedy "The Trouble with Harry". And truth to be told, there was one truly genius and perplexing moment as well! When she's working at the video store, Alicia receives regular visits from a customer - Franklin - who doesn't have a VCR-player but only comes to see her and ask her out. After refusing a few times, Alicia eventually does want to meet up with Franklin and calls him up at home. While he's answering the phone and reacting genuinely happy that Alicia finally gives him a change, the camera zooms out and we suddenly see there's the bloodied corpse of a girl lying next to him on the bed. This clumsy but amiable kid has been a serial killer all along?
That was a great moment, honestly, but it's quickly forgotten again due to the script of "Disconnected" being so bad. There are so many things happening that don't make the slightest bit of sense! What's up with the old man in Alicia's apartment? Why are is there a police officer in Hawaiian shirt pretending he's giving an interview for a true-crime documentary? Why do the obscene phone calls sound like a baby-alien bursting out of the chest of John Hurt's chest?
All the weirdness and senselessness I can easily tolerate, but what I personally found truly insufferable were writer/director Gorman Bechard's lame tricks to stretch the running time. The movie is unnecessarily made longer through awful editing and pointless padding. During the love-making sequences, for instance, Bechard joyfully shows a long and tedious montage of everyday interior design objects. There's also a sequence that freezes on an ugly painting for such an unimaginably long time that I thought my DVD-player or the disc itself was broken.