Gone is a film with a prophetic title. So prophetic, in fact, that I am in something of a rush to write the review before all memory of the experience is gone from my brain, and so you can read that review before this dumber-than-your-proverbial-parcel-of-parsnips movie is gone from theaters. Yes, it’s that bad. Here’s the idea: Jill (Amanda Seyfried), a couple of years before our story begins, was kidnapped by the world’s most inept serial killer, from whom the plucky lass escaped with the aid of a previous victim’s armbone. Well, now Jill is living with her sister, Molly (Emily Wickersham), working in a diner, learning martial arts, and obsessing over the idea that the killer will return. Wouldn’t you just know — and you did, if you saw the trailer — that she’d come home from work one morning and find Molly gone, just like the title says. Of course, the cops don’t believe that anything happened, because Jill, you see, has a history of mental illness (indeed, her own kidnapping seems a little sketchy). The only cop who seems sympathetic is Peter Hood (Wes Bentley), who mostly stands around looking suspicious until he disappears for most of the film to take soup to his ailing mother (honest, that’s what the script claims). Since no one will believe her, our plucky but possibly unbalanced heroine (think of her as a bug-eyed, medicated Nancy Drew) sets out to find her sister before it’s too late. What this results in is one of the pokiest mysteries in the history of the motion picture. Where will it all end? Will our Jill find herself back down in the same hole she was imprisoned by this madman once before? What do you think? I’d say Gone is a shoo-in for one of the worst movies of 2012, except no one will remember it even existed by December.
Director: Gretchen Morning and John Morning