Obsessed

A hysterical male victimhood nightmare in the Fatal Attraction mold...

There's still few places I'd rather be than in a packed movie house for this film's outrageously tabloid-pop climax.

You’re not buying a ticket for the suspense. You’re buying it to see Beyoncé kick some ass.

Those who go in checking their brain at the box office might find this paint-by-numbers scenario crudely entertaining even in its utter predictability.

Got a sweet tooth for sexy-but-scorned psycho trash like The Hand That Rocks the Cradle, The Temp, and Fatal Attraction? Well, you're in luck.