Sheese, The Strangers is my worst nightmare kind of cheesy thriller: Young couple staying overnight in a country house hear noises and knocking on doors of possible intruders in and around the neighbourless forest-ridden environs. It’s a horrific storyline if you’re a paranoid person like me, who cannot live in a house affixed to the ground in Johannesburg… my imagination is superbly active and my sense of self-preservation way too egotistical. I always have to live at least three floors above ground level to feel safe, and even then, I check the sliding doors before going to sleep. The sheer horror of realising someone is trying to break into the house and murder Liv Tyler was enough to cause serious incidental flashbacks and regular hoarse screams of “OMG” while throwing my face into the shoulder of my big and strong companion, in the process being a little over generous with my sugared (WTF?) popcorn and the neighbours. Definitely Not for the crime-paranoid. Or maybe? It’s a freaking thrill. And based on a true story. See, I told you so.
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