Fridae

Ken, like so many hot-blooded and attractive Thai men, indulges in multiple “gigs” with a bevy of attractive women. Unlike Tiger Woods, Ken is disastrously inept in retaining their affections once they realise they’re not his “one and only”. Of all the insecure, whiny, possessive and borderline psychotic girlfriends that he shouldn’t have hooked up with was the one that is dead and haunting him.

As you watch the film, the realisation sinks in that you could be watching Shutter, but retold with far less flair, a vastly simplified plot, and a far less varied visual repertoire. In its defence, there are some horror flicks that fail because of an over-written script that is crammed with baroque twists, surprise endings, and horror scenes that are too imaginative and incredible to feel scary at all. Then again, I wouldn’t describe Shutter as that kind of film.

What the makers of My Ex did get right would be the concept of horror. Aside from the prerequisite “scary” scenes, most of the horror is predictable and only scary because it is predictable. Recent change in cinematography and soundtrack prime means the audience would be expecting a horror scene that the unwitting subject will be subjected to. The unwitting subject then gains awareness of his situation, and the full moment of horror is actually between the inevitable gore/reveal and the suspenseful waiting. My Ex utilise this formula repetitiously throughout the movie till you’re screaming for them to stop it.

While the filmmakers want a moralistic horror film where offenders are methodically haunted to death, as a punishment for some unspeakable crime committed on some poor innocent soul, we’re frankly puzzled by their logic. Even if you’re an inept multi dater like Lothario, surely you don’t deserve to be haunted by your whiny, psychotic ex – just like how these filmmakers don’t deserve to be haunted by some vengeful moviegoers who hated, hated, hated their film.