WRECKED IS QUITE GOOD—it has an enthralling performance by Adrien Brody, beautiful camerawork, and steadily ratcheting tension—but even at 90 minutes, it could've used a cut. Brody plays a severely injured man who comes to in a wrecked car at the bottom of a cliff, with a dead man in the backseat and no memory of his past or how he got there. His leg is pinned, so slowly and painfully he begins exploring the few clues at his disposal. Why is he in the passenger seat? Where is the driver? Uh, is that a gun under the front seat?
It's riveting to watch the feelings and realizations cross Brody's face as he eventually comprehends exactly how fucked he is—because even if he can get his mangled self out of the forest, a dark past is waiting for him. After freeing himself from the wreckage and being haunted by mysterious visions, Brody drags his ass around the wilderness with feverish determination... alas, body-dragging begets movie-dragging. Still, you'll want to remember the name of Wrecked's first-time director, Michael Greenspan—if he learns to trim the fat, he has the potential to be an impeccable thriller director.