Well, thanks very much. It was awfully nice but it’s really not my birthday.
The birthday is Virginia’s, the young lady star of this film. The bouncing, perky young miss who we quickly learn is going to some sort of exclusive school or other. Having fun, living it up, spending time with the exclusive bunch of rich kids unofficially known as “The Ten.” (Although, they may have been “The Eight” or “The Nine.” I know it was some number. I can’t quite read my notes.) Well, the problem is that someone starts killing “The Number Group” members in various ways including, but not limited to, weights on the neck, throats slit with razors and shish kebob skewers rammed into the throat.
Now I certainly don’t want to ruin anything but, our killer might be little Ginny. It certainly might be. You see, she keeps having these strange flashbacks whenever the camera tilts and a red light shines on her face. Something to do with her brain being exposed and sessions with psychotherapist Glenn Ford. She’s trying to remember something that happened to her.
A little something that might have something to do, somehow, with the killer.
Peregrinations and palpitations abound. People are killed. Ginny’s best friend tries to be supportive and looks around a lot in a very stern fashion. The other “The Group” members all act strange. About 1/2 hour into it, due to all this suspicious behavior, everyone in the crowd, including myself, thought we’d found our killer. There’s one nerdy taxidermist guy with glasses who has the first girl’s head on a platter! The lady one row behind me and three seats over declared without a shadow of a doubt that “He’s the one!” and she actually left the theater and went home. But, I wasn’t so sure.
My suspicions panned out. The guy is not the killer. (I don’t like to spoil things but I don’t want you to leave like the lady did.) Neither is the guy who sneaks around Ginny’s bedroom. Or the guy with the knife in the bell tower. Or the best friend who’s always staring about. Or Ginny who clearly stabs the glasses guy about 45 minutes into the movie. (In fact, a lovely couple, 5 rows behind me and six seats to the left, took off when this happened.) Nor is it any of the adults who...Oh wait a sec. One of these people is the killer actually. Sorry.
I wish I could lay you down with a little more plot but the mystery is so deep here that I really don’t want to ruin it more than I may have. Although, here are a few closing bits for you: The guy burying the dead guy’s scarf is just naturally suspicious. The girl floating by the see-through window in the pool is not dead. When Virginia yells “Kill him!” over and over, she’s referring to a very intense soccer game. A woman’s panties are her own private fortress. The amount of subterfuge an unstable person can get away with is Einstein-amazing. And, finally, when the camera tilts and you see that red light, take a seat. Things might get a little wacky.
A lesson, you say. A lesson, you beg? Sure. If two or more of your friends have disappeared and you’ve had some sort of trauma, be wary of everyone! Everyone will act nutty. Everyone will act suspicious. Keeping a very close eye on them will help you through. Oh, and those masks that killers wear that look like the person but then when they pull it off looks like a mask, well, there’s something to look for. A friend playing tricks on an average day wouldn’t wear something like this.
“Happy Birthday To Me:” Hollywood made it convoluted. Like life. Take it from me.
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