Raising Cain

In this ill-conceived hybrid of Sybil and Psycho, De Palma once again blatantly borrows from other movies without shame and rubs your nose in every camera trick imaginable, but he also does something of which he's seldom been guilty: he ignores the fundamental principles of suspense. From its opening scene, Raising Cain is already in third gear, forcing De Palma -- who is also the screenwriter -- to throw in exposition and explanations at an awkward pace in a vain effort to redeem its story. Rather than build a steady momentum that climaxes in one of those operatic, surreal slow-motion sequences in which De Palma goes for baroque, the movie snowballs out-of-control without any visceral excitement.