If you’re any kind of storyteller, you have to be careful of starting your story with the end, because your audience has not developed any emotional connections with the characters. It can be done, but it has to be done carefully, artfully and with grace. The Books of John has none of these qualities. This film starts with the death of John, the eponymous title character. Co-directors and co-creators L. W. Smith and David Schweiger either don’t know how to involve the audience or didn’t bother. I’d like to think it was the former. An interesting premise wasted on bad storytelling, terrible acting and horrific audio. It’s better than most of it’s Ariztical brethren but that’s not saying much. Continuing my quest to find an Ariztical movie that doesn’t suck.
One Star out of Five
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