Alexis is a reporter for a local news station in San Antonio, TX and an impromptu encounter with some milk-drinking weirdo at a restaurant has the bald stranger hinting at something sinister before alluding to an interest in “art”. “Art” in this instance seems to be necrophilia and Alex comes to realize she’s talking to a serial killer who the authorities already thought they apprehended. He’s got a fetish for embalming his victims, getting it on with their corpses and then staging them in eerie tableaus. He’s a real sick boy and he shares his whole disturbing history with the gobsmacked journalist but she is a pro and this is one hell of an opportunity. Almost like a two-person stage play with a few background characters and flashbacks to let things get a little disturbing. It drags in spots but that’s just how it’s going to be when the whole bones of the film is a conversation between two people. Unfortunately it falls apart just a little bit when it leaves the uncomfortable chat as it stumbles over the finish line and goes just a bit too long. Our two leads Leila Annastasia Scott as Alexis and Jason Scarbrough as our killer are shockingly stellar. Which is good, because this damn thing would crumble into unwatchable bullshit if they blew goats. There’s also some unexpectedly memorable imagery pulled off on what had to be a minimal budget. I think 15,000 bucks if IMDb is to be believed. More horror adjacent than flat out horror, it’s still a strikingly interesting view of what working within one’s funds with an abundance of talent can do.
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