Darkhunters looks like it might be something like Resident Evil, but actually it's more like a late-period "X-Files" episode directed by Jean-Paul Sartre immediately after reading Stephen King's Cat's Eye. That's unlikely, of course, but not as unlikely as the idea that this lame-ass bullshit might have been considered marketable by anyone. Pinon is Charlie Jackson, a man who is, apparently, caught between life and death (he can be seen by cats, whatever that means), and needs the help of Susan Paterno to either restore his soul or affirm his death. Meanwhile, Jeff Fahey is on his trail, with a totally unnecessary Bogart impression, along with a Darth Maul-like demon figure who is just laugahble. Somewhere along the way, dogs and cats are revealed as the true indicators of our souls' disposition … which is fine, except that this is communicated entirely through badly-shot footage of dogs and cats in cages, much like you would see on any given visit to a pet store. Effects, writing, dialogue, acting, cinematography … don't these things matter in making a film? The director doesn't seem to think so. This movie is an incoherent piece of shit; I couldn't make heads nor tails of it. The "Miami Vice"-style music and occasional ripoff of the "Halloween" theme certainly doesn't help. Worst of all, a ponderous climax aims for 2001 (don't try this on iMovie, fuckos), and the final sequence sets up the idea that this is going to be the first of a series of Darkhunter movies. Yet I'm still not sure what a "Darkhunter" even is. Once again I renew my objection to 99% of humans being granted access to video-cameras.
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