Twisted is an unusual forensic crime film because it's witty and sophisticated as well as taut and creepy.

Twisted is a movie so derivative it's hard to pinpoint exactly how many other thrillers it poaches from.

A neo-noir movie nightmare gone sadly wrong.

By Twisted's final twist, though, it's all Judd can do to keep a straight face.

It's always rather sad to watch gifted performers stranded in a tepid thriller. You can see them, as professional pretenders, trying to believe that they're creating a character, but the lie is transparent -- all they're really doing is advancing a retarded plot.

A snore.

The movie may dole out a few guilty pleasures, but you won’t believe a word of it.

Laborious and nonsensical psychological thriller, a mediocre piece of studio hackwork unredeemed by a first-rate director.

Laughably clichéd, abominably written, astonishingly dreadful attempt at a psycho-sexual thriller.

Twisted is a D-grade thriller with an A-list cast. It's a disappointment from start to finish...But, in the final quarter-hour, it committed the unpardonable sin of insulting my intelligence.

Walks like a thriller and talks like a thriller, but it squawks like a turkey.

This is by far Kaufman's worst outing since becoming a major filmmaker more than a quarter-century ago, and the fact that his only other stinker from this period is 1993's "Rising Sun" means that maybe he ought to stay away from cop melodramas.

No one associated with the film tries very hard, from cinematographer Peter Deming -- San Francisco has never looked so drab -- to composer Mark Isham, whose watery jazz score is meant to summon melancholy but merely relieves insomnia.

It's an old maxim that you can't make a good movie from a bad script. But with the suspense thriller Twisted, Philip Kaufman shows that you can make one that looks like it should be good.