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I didn't see it in France, but I waited, and waited, and waited for it to come to the U.S.
And here it is, retitled Angel of Death and proving why it never merited a theatrical appearance here.
Angel of Death is a muddy and thrill-free suspense flick, with Sorvino playing a Spanish detective who comes to the town of Seville to investigate a new serial killer who's working during Easter week and wearing red robes and a cone-shaped hat. Teaming up with macho cop Martinez, they bumble around for 90 minutes until finally they get their butts saved and the killer is revealed.
With a script that feels like it was written by a small child or possibly a household pet, Angel of Death never once manages to become interesting. Its heroes are unlikable, ineffective, lazy, and stupid. Its villains aren't much different: One-note stereotypes that of course are going to deserve what they get in the end.
Even fans of Sorvino, who parades around in a tailored suit and skirt for the entire film, will find nothing here to titillate them. Skip it.
Aka Semana Santa.
