James Wan and Leigh Whannell, the infamous creators of the "Saw" cult trilogy, are the poor man's M. Night Shyamalan.
The enigmas and logic behind their storylines far outshine today's horrendously trite B-horror movies like "See No Evil" and "House of Wax." Yet the lack of substance in the duo's screenplays — and their fascination with setting the world record for most cases of nausea caused by a single movie — prevent them from being taken too seriously by critics. "Dead Silence" doesn't stray far from Wan and Wannell's niche. The acting sucks, the writing sucks, but damn, can those two make a kick-ass slasher flick.
"Dead Silence" tests the writers' ability at using the supernatural to scare the audience; no more cancer patient-turned-crusader for the adage "misery loves company"; now we have to deal with the ghost of a ghoulish old lady who makes the Wicked Witch of the West look like Mary Poppins.
Jamie Ashen (Ryan Kwanten) and wife Lisa (Laura Regan) start out as the trademark blissfully happy couple that has no premonition of the world of shit that lies before them. The two receive an ominously anonymous package containing a ventriloquist dummy. After Jamie leaves to get dinner, he returns to find his once delicate, nurturing wife looking pretty ghastly, with her head pried open at the mouth and missing her tongue. Talk about a loss for words.
The ensuing hour and a half of cover-your-eyes-and-ears terror follows our na?
