The Crimson Rivers: A Review by Nate Hill 

There’s a serial killer loose in a small mountain town located in rural France, and who better to track them down than the country’s two most prolific film actors (or the ones with better physiques than Gerard Depardieu anyway), Jean Reno and Vincent Cassel. Reno is the seasoned, slightly eccentric Parisian detective, called in to assist and step on the toes of local investigator Cassel, who is too hot headed to realize he could use the help. A body has washed up in a nearby river, mutilated to an unspeakable degree in gruesomely specific ways (think Sev7n on ice). The town just happens to be solely inhabited by the creepy residents of a nearby university that is notorious for incestuous classism and rumours of ties to the occult. You can imagine where this is heading, and it’s fun watching Reno and Cassel follow the bloodstained breadcrumb trail towards increasingly grisly secrets that would test even David Fincher’s gag reflex. Genetic research, mysterious twins (both played by Nadia Fares), and multiple corpses are a few of the hurdles our two heroes encounter. It’s delightfully convoluted, in the best way possible. Some people say that less is more, but I find that makes way for laziness and complacency, two attributes you don’t want to find in the horror/thriller genre. I’d rather a film throw every little brainstorm and margin doodle into the mix, even if it doesn’t all add up, than present a barely filled in canvas that begs for more. The real stunner with this one is a near Bond-esque climax set on a giant glacier overlooking the valley below, full of desperate violence and giddy exposition. You’ll need a strong stomach for the dark places this one ventures to, but it will reward you with crisp cinematography and lurid, blood soaked intrigue. Brutal stuff though. 

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