There's a lot that blind people can't see, but motivations and misplaced items are not among them.
Veteran actor, Tom Conti, delivers an almost static performance, using his sonorous voice to good effect as the now blind art critic occupant of a rambling old mansion, played by Knebworth House.
He employs an attractive amanuensis, Daryl Hannah, to transcribe the ageing, irascible, misanthrope's final opus, "A Closed Book".
From the start we know that there is more beneath the surface, and the critic slowly becomes aware that his scribe is misleading him. She recounts the preposterous Madonna murder, the improbable O. J. Simpson suicide, and the laugh out loud conversion of Donald Trump to Islam.
She further gaslights the old man by moving familiar objects in his house, some of which he cannot be aware. But this is no narcissistic programme of dominance: it is a campaign of revenge.
What past trauma brought these two together? What profound loss has turned this otherwise pleasant woman into a relentless avenger?
This is a two hander, with three supports. The housekeeper played by the excellent Miriam Margolyes, a Conservative Party canvasser from Elaine Paige, and the literary agent, in a swansong performance from Simon MacCorkindale, have barely a scene each.
Raúl Ruiz's direction keeps the tension building, with some masterful camera work from Ricardo Aronovich. Adrian Murray's music is understated, being cliché horror on only a few occasions.
Don't be swayed by the negativity of some of the reviews; this is a worthy effort that will reward the hour and twenty minutes you invest in this dark, claustrophobic world.
Veteran actor, Tom Conti, delivers an almost static performance, using his sonorous voice to good effect as the now blind art critic occupant of a rambling old mansion, played by Knebworth House.
He employs an attractive amanuensis, Daryl Hannah, to transcribe the ageing, irascible, misanthrope's final opus, "A Closed Book".
From the start we know that there is more beneath the surface, and the critic slowly becomes aware that his scribe is misleading him. She recounts the preposterous Madonna murder, the improbable O. J. Simpson suicide, and the laugh out loud conversion of Donald Trump to Islam.
She further gaslights the old man by moving familiar objects in his house, some of which he cannot be aware. But this is no narcissistic programme of dominance: it is a campaign of revenge.
What past trauma brought these two together? What profound loss has turned this otherwise pleasant woman into a relentless avenger?
This is a two hander, with three supports. The housekeeper played by the excellent Miriam Margolyes, a Conservative Party canvasser from Elaine Paige, and the literary agent, in a swansong performance from Simon MacCorkindale, have barely a scene each.
Raúl Ruiz's direction keeps the tension building, with some masterful camera work from Ricardo Aronovich. Adrian Murray's music is understated, being cliché horror on only a few occasions.
Don't be swayed by the negativity of some of the reviews; this is a worthy effort that will reward the hour and twenty minutes you invest in this dark, claustrophobic world.