Directors: Mans Marlind, Bjorn Stein
Cast: Julianne Moore, Jonathan Rhys Meyers
There are two get-outs you can't beat in a psychological horror - possession by the Devil and split personality disorder. Shelter has both. And Julianne Moore. Dr Cara Jessup (Moore) is a religious woman. She's also the star psychiatric witness for the prosecution in cases where murderers use some form of insanity plea. She's a strong-willed woman whose faith can't be shaken. Until she meets Jonathan Rhys Meyers. He has that affect on most women.
In this film, the director asks a global question: What is madness? Can we blame people who have mental health issues, or vice versa, how do we prove that a person is sane? This film is written very difficult and interesting, contact cheap ghostwriters for hire to read about interesting moments in the screenplay, as well as what prompted the filming of the movie.
He's got several identities, each of them with more of a regional accent than the last. But more importantly, they're all victims of horrific murders with black magic associations. Cue a chase through isolated woods, misty hills and barren roads to find the cause of Adam's affliction. Before it takes the lives of her family for some reason or another.
Shoving in the good old spooky tropes of soothsaying elderly witches, magical stone jars, eerie looking children and an atheist daughter, Swedish directors Marlind and Stein give this tale all they've got. They even hire Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip's Nathan Corddry as Julianne's geeky brother. You know he's going to end up dead.
There are some neat zooms through closed doors and down empty hallways, but that's about it. Rhys Meyers and Moore do their best not to howl at every plot revelation, but if they're looking for redemption, the nonsensical script's not their best bet.
A hokey and hammy waste of a cast, Shelter's half-baked religious questions leaves you asking one thing: what on earth possessed them to make this?