Hollow Gate is the cinematic equivalent of a supermarket meal deal: not terrible, vaguely satisfying, but you'll forget about it by dessert. The story, while sturdy enough to prop up its 90-minute runtime, feels like it's been scrawled on the back of a cocktail napkin. It's a shame because, with a bit more seasoning, this could've been a genuinely tense psychological thriller. Instead, it plays out like Psycho performed by a community theatre group auditioning for Scooby-Doo.
The direction, to its credit, keeps things ticking along nicely. There's a faint heartbeat of tension, but any attempts at atmosphere fizzle out like a faulty smoke machine at a haunted house. And then there's the killer-less Hannibal Lecter, more panto villain. His over-the-top performance is less chilling and more like he's auditioning for a guest spot on The Muppet Show.
That said, it's not all bad. The film is mildly entertaining and doesn't overstay its welcome, making it the perfect choice for a lazy evening when your brain's in power-saving mode. But if you're looking for genuine dread or thrills, you'll find Hollow Gate more hollow than haunting.
