Seth and Jonah are murderous twins who share an evil kinship. Damned from the moment of their births, the brothers possess a gruesome talent for telekinesis – a power they use in the most horrific ways imaginable. As their fellow students meet gory fates, the local law enforcement begins to suspect the twins’ connection to some depraved murders. What started as a jealous rage escalates into a supernatural showdown – pitting brother against brother, evil against evil.
Surely twins will someday get their own musical comedies, or sweet indie romances, or gritty cop procedurals. But for now, when it comes to movies, twins are destined for creepy horror. Seconds Apart
understands this very well, and its unnerving teenage brothers fit neatly into a long line of cinematic Gemini whose unhealthy connection with each other is stronger than any they have with the outside world. At first glance, Jonah and Seth (played by real-life twins Edmund and Gary Entin) appear more suited to a teen boy band than a horror picture, but in fact they are embarked on a lifelong experiment: use their shared telekinetic powers in order to feel something, anything, of what other people feel. The results can be murder. Seconds Apart
gets off to an effectively unexpected start (a fraternity-party drinking game turns into Russian roulette, for reasons we can't immediately see), and locks into a moody groove from there. Unlike many low-budget horror offerings, it doesn't go for a quick-cut style; rather, director Antonio Negret aims for a more classical form, with a muted color palette and a somber tone. Sometimes the results are a little too close to a slickly dressed TV commercial for comfort, but much of it works pretty well, and the Entin twins are eerily good (Samantha Droke also does better-than-required work as a schoolmate who manages to draw something human from one of the brothers). The detective on the case is ably played by Orlando Jones, but his personal trauma gets a little tiresome, and drags the movie away from its main source of creepiness. Keep expectations low, and this one provides satisfactory chills--a double dose, you might say. --Robert Horton