Patrick (Chris Avram) invites seven wealthy friends and colleagues to a spooky country villa, which he recently inherited. The vast estate includes a built-in theater, which is fitting as Patrick and his guests are in show business. The odd man out is an apparent servant who wears a Nehru jacket and acts suspiciously.
Almost immediately, these well-groomed stereotypes start bickering ("You're so civil to each other while you tear yourselves to pieces"). Patrick relishes the opportunity to bring together people who are attached to him financially, such as his ex-wife and her husband, and enemies who owe him money.
The fun and mind games halt abruptly when Patrick is attacked by a black-gloved man. Unseen hands bolt the doors, trapping the inhabitants, and the most innocent of the group (Janet Agren) is butchered on the theater stage, in front of everyone, but no one sees the killer.
THE KILLER RESERVED NINE SEATS quickly settles into a leisurely-paced variation on "Ten Little Indians." After Agren dies, the remaining characters foolishly split up and search for a way out of the building. With the evocative stage set as an background, they wander the atmospheric corridors and stairwells to no good effect. In addition, they continue to complain at one another ("One day I'm going to screw you, Doris").
When the killer finally gets down to business, screenwriters Biagia Proietti, Pablo Levi, and (director) Giuseppe Bennati opt for an "everything but kitchen sink" approach to resolve the who, why, and how aspect of their story.
Stabbings, a garroting, a touch of incest, and an incongruous supernatural subplot keep the drama lurching forward. There's a lot going on in THE KILLER RESERVED NINE SEATS, but the pace is too slack to generate much suspense.
The film is not without its share of clever moments -- such as an effective scene of a man disappearing into thin air -- but the characters are such a turn-off I thought most of them deserved to get shiskabobbed. The director reserves a spectacular death set piece -- a gratuitous crotch stabbing -- for the most unpleasant character, who happens to be a lesbian.
Almost immediately, these well-groomed stereotypes start bickering ("You're so civil to each other while you tear yourselves to pieces"). Patrick relishes the opportunity to bring together people who are attached to him financially, such as his ex-wife and her husband, and enemies who owe him money.
The fun and mind games halt abruptly when Patrick is attacked by a black-gloved man. Unseen hands bolt the doors, trapping the inhabitants, and the most innocent of the group (Janet Agren) is butchered on the theater stage, in front of everyone, but no one sees the killer.
THE KILLER RESERVED NINE SEATS quickly settles into a leisurely-paced variation on "Ten Little Indians." After Agren dies, the remaining characters foolishly split up and search for a way out of the building. With the evocative stage set as an background, they wander the atmospheric corridors and stairwells to no good effect. In addition, they continue to complain at one another ("One day I'm going to screw you, Doris").
When the killer finally gets down to business, screenwriters Biagia Proietti, Pablo Levi, and (director) Giuseppe Bennati opt for an "everything but kitchen sink" approach to resolve the who, why, and how aspect of their story.
Stabbings, a garroting, a touch of incest, and an incongruous supernatural subplot keep the drama lurching forward. There's a lot going on in THE KILLER RESERVED NINE SEATS, but the pace is too slack to generate much suspense.
The film is not without its share of clever moments -- such as an effective scene of a man disappearing into thin air -- but the characters are such a turn-off I thought most of them deserved to get shiskabobbed. The director reserves a spectacular death set piece -- a gratuitous crotch stabbing -- for the most unpleasant character, who happens to be a lesbian.