Speaking of fire, Those Who Wish Me Dead boasts a plethora of fiery sequences yet somehow manages to make the flames look less realistic than they did over three decades ago in Ron Howard’s Backdraft. The way the fire is integrated into the story and how everything is tied up “neatly” (read: incinerated) at the end is not only incredibly predictable and tacky, but it’s also dull, all sound and fury signifying zilch.
Jolie’s somnambulant performance is at least sort of counterbalanced by Hoult’s typical commitment to the role of the sadistic Patrick. Although, both he and Gillen are saddled with characters who are given next-to-no discernible reason for being as cruel as they are, offing innocent people and beating up women left and right. Did their mommies not love them? Their incessant desire to inflict pain and death on behalf of a shadowy corporation represented by Tyler Perry in a single, astoundingly wooden appearance becomes borderline-comical.
“…Hoult’s typical commitment to the role…”
All the elements of Those Who Wish Me Dead clash and jar, a wild amalgamation that never gains traction. There are so many inconsistencies, conveniences, and plot holes – a man sets an entire forest on fire as a distraction, no one seems to carry a cellphone, characters hide in the dumbest possible locations, and a pregnant woman sporting a rifle picks a horse as her method of transportation, to name a few – that one would be passed out in a pile of their own vomit if they’d even attempt to down a shot for each blunder.
Here’s hoping that Sheridan regains his footing with the next project. Those Who Wish Me Dead didn’t exactly leave me wishing I were dead, although a pounding headache and sour aftertaste lingered long after the credits rolled.
"…I had high hopes..."
