The Canal

This Dublin-set horror rehashes every haunted-house trick in the book.

Injecting explicit imagery into an old-fashioned possession story, writer-director Ivan Kavanagh brandishes his unusual mix of styles right from the beginning.

Over all, the action is too cryptic, and the pedestrian dialogue doesn't help.

Piers McGrail's nuanced, moody cinematography brings out the best in writer-director Ivan Kavanagh's over-mannered but effectively creepy ghost story.

A film that at first seemed worthy of an heir to Lynch, Fincher or Polanski's cinema but ends up bordering on ridicule. [Full review in Spanish]

Rupert Evans' performance as David is alarming in the shift from unassuming and tender husband and father to demonic neurotic and delusional obsessive.

A truly original horror film isn't easy to come by these days... The Canal, isn't the film that's going to change that, but it does have its positives.

A wonderfully shot, cleverly written, and subtly effective horror movie.

The Canal, though reliant on atmospherics and superb sound design, looks and feels more than genre cinema than Kavanagh's earlier, freakier one.

Making the most of its modest attributes and a wrenching central performance by TV regular and Hellboy veteran Rupert Evans, this Irish chiller lurches from unspoken eeriness to outright horror as it plots a familiar paranormal trajectory.

Writer-director Ivan Kavanagh and cinematographer Piers McGrail fashion something properly cinematic from their watery, nondescript locations: an overcast, portal-like towpath, and a dilapidated public loo ...

Though some of the plot doesn't entirely add up, with a few ill thought-out reveals towards the end, the sinister atmosphere is enough to keep you teetering on the edge of your seat for most of the running time.