I’ve mentioned “apartment horror” recently, the sub-genre where a protagonist tackles the strange modern isolation that comes with living in what are basically cells stacked upon each other. Usually, a mystery connected to the building appears, and the protagonist asserts their autonomy and individuality by getting to the bottom of it. Examples would include Roman Polanski’s “The Tenant” and “Rosemary’s Baby”, as well as Tobe Hooper’s “Toolbox Murders” remake and the under-appreciated “Watcher”.

I’d posit there’s a sub-sub genre of apartment horror—condominium horror. It’s like apartment horror, but the walls are whiter and cleaner, the pool water sparkling and pure, the elevator interiors smooth and metallic.

“Distorted” fall into this category.

Christine Ricci plays waifish Lauren. She and her husband move into a pristine, isolated condo after something terrible happened in their previous apartment. But weird things start occurring. A disturbing hum cuts into the air. The TV comes alive with strange, quickly flashing images, often horrifying ones.

(Because I’m very manly, I usually laugh at warnings about flashing lights, but some scenes in the film were genuinely discombobulating.)

Of course, Lauren is the only person who observes these disturbances. And it turns out she was hospitalized after the unnamed thing that happened in her previous apartment. So maybe it’s all in her head. 

It’s not a bad setup. Unfortunately, the movie gives the game away pretty early on, and you’re left with a kind of lukewarm thriller. Then the whole thing really falls apart at the end.

Ricci has a special quirkiness she can bring to her roles—I’m thinking of her work in “Yellowjackets”, the “Wednesday” Netflix show, and even “Buffalo 66”. But this boilerplate damsel in distress routine doesn’t give her much to work with.

John Cusack shows up as a kind of wild-eyed conspiracy type. (Really playing against type there, John.)

File under: “I watched this so you don’t have to.”