Anne Rule is a first-rate true-crime writer, both concise and colorful, and she wrote the book this TV movie is based on. It's too bad that the people behind this movie, anxious for a buck, rush to Canada and shoot the story so carelessly for Lifetime Movies.
The story itself isn't exactly epic. A narcissistic dentist (Lowe) shoots his wife and sets it up as a suicide. The wife's sister is convinced that it was murder and eggs the local police on. (Nice performance by Michelle Hurd as the determined but straight-laced cop.) A lengthy investigation brings out the fact that one of the dentist's girl friends in college wound up dead in the same manner. Okay, Doc, open wide now.
The director, Norma Bailey, tries some original camera angles. Sometimes they work -- a couple of overhead shots that break up the predictable parade of images -- and sometimes they don't. It doesn't add much to a scene of a couple walking down a hallway and having an ordinary conversation when you tilt the camera thirty degrees. There are situations that call for such striking effects, but a chat in a hallways isn't one of them.
Rob Lowe is Rob Lowe. Everyone says he's handsome so I suppose he's handsome but there are times when I could be convinced that his character's love of self is entirely real. You know when the audience is first tipped off that there's something queer about the grieving husband? When he shows up to answer questions at the police station, says he's ready to be taken to the interrogation room, and says politely, to nobody in particular, "Coffee black, no cream," and one of the detectives stares after him, stupefied. And he insists on being addressed as "doctor," whereas most non-MDs get that behind them when they're out of their professional settings.
When I think of all the pain inflicted on me over the years by those sadists in white coats -- you know the patter, "This may sting a little," and "I'm going to have to be a bad boy now," -- I was glad to see him convicted. You hear me? -- GLAD! I hope that prison has a dentist who is a ham-handed oaf at his job and who suffers from a perpetual hangover. Immanent justice. It was good enough for Aristotle.
The story itself isn't exactly epic. A narcissistic dentist (Lowe) shoots his wife and sets it up as a suicide. The wife's sister is convinced that it was murder and eggs the local police on. (Nice performance by Michelle Hurd as the determined but straight-laced cop.) A lengthy investigation brings out the fact that one of the dentist's girl friends in college wound up dead in the same manner. Okay, Doc, open wide now.
The director, Norma Bailey, tries some original camera angles. Sometimes they work -- a couple of overhead shots that break up the predictable parade of images -- and sometimes they don't. It doesn't add much to a scene of a couple walking down a hallway and having an ordinary conversation when you tilt the camera thirty degrees. There are situations that call for such striking effects, but a chat in a hallways isn't one of them.
Rob Lowe is Rob Lowe. Everyone says he's handsome so I suppose he's handsome but there are times when I could be convinced that his character's love of self is entirely real. You know when the audience is first tipped off that there's something queer about the grieving husband? When he shows up to answer questions at the police station, says he's ready to be taken to the interrogation room, and says politely, to nobody in particular, "Coffee black, no cream," and one of the detectives stares after him, stupefied. And he insists on being addressed as "doctor," whereas most non-MDs get that behind them when they're out of their professional settings.
When I think of all the pain inflicted on me over the years by those sadists in white coats -- you know the patter, "This may sting a little," and "I'm going to have to be a bad boy now," -- I was glad to see him convicted. You hear me? -- GLAD! I hope that prison has a dentist who is a ham-handed oaf at his job and who suffers from a perpetual hangover. Immanent justice. It was good enough for Aristotle.