Michael Raven skilfully directed the suspense thriller "Hush", its title derived from the familiar baby lullaby referenced several times in Jennifer Allison's script, as an effective Jessica Drake vehicle for Wicked Pictures.
Beginning with a brief teaser scene of Jessica's fright, which is repeated later intact where it appears naturally in the film's narrative, Raven employs a very serious tone and various thriller motifs to develop an interior drama (narrated by Drake) of her problems dating back to childhood when she felt neglected by her late cop dad (Randy Spears), always too busy on some difficult case to give her the proper attention. Now her boyfriend is also a police detective (Eric Masterson), similarly neglecting her.
Drake is a psychologist whose patients are cops, including in a cameo director Raven himself. A key patient is a detective Eric works with played by Brad Armstrong, who delivers the feature's strongest performance, one of his better acting jobs.
Brad and Eric's current case is to track down a serial killer (nicknamed "The Caller") of women who has racked up six victims so far, and the movie's structure boils down to two prime suspects, interestingly enough Brad and Eric! There is an almost subliminal shot early on that foreshadows the identity of the murderer, and slowing down the frames on my DVD player I was able to see who it was - sort of a clever Easter Egg planted by Raven, but it is impossible to see this spoiler at proper speed.
Drake is quite effective as the vulnerable heroine, and several other Wicked contract stars pop up in minor sex roles in support, looking beautiful of course: Kaylani Lei in a flashback tryst with Spears; Alektra Blue as a free-loving bartender humped by Brad; and Mikayla Mendez as a fellow cop. Alec Knight is a cop who has sex at headquarters with Mikayla but is oddly left out of both opening and end credits.
Many crew members have bit parts and Allison's screenplay has an excellent rounded-out finale putting Drake's experiences into perspective, but Raven unfortunately tacks on a stupid ending twist in the now-familiar "Carrie" trickster approach, sabotaging an otherwise serious accomplishment.
Beginning with a brief teaser scene of Jessica's fright, which is repeated later intact where it appears naturally in the film's narrative, Raven employs a very serious tone and various thriller motifs to develop an interior drama (narrated by Drake) of her problems dating back to childhood when she felt neglected by her late cop dad (Randy Spears), always too busy on some difficult case to give her the proper attention. Now her boyfriend is also a police detective (Eric Masterson), similarly neglecting her.
Drake is a psychologist whose patients are cops, including in a cameo director Raven himself. A key patient is a detective Eric works with played by Brad Armstrong, who delivers the feature's strongest performance, one of his better acting jobs.
Brad and Eric's current case is to track down a serial killer (nicknamed "The Caller") of women who has racked up six victims so far, and the movie's structure boils down to two prime suspects, interestingly enough Brad and Eric! There is an almost subliminal shot early on that foreshadows the identity of the murderer, and slowing down the frames on my DVD player I was able to see who it was - sort of a clever Easter Egg planted by Raven, but it is impossible to see this spoiler at proper speed.
Drake is quite effective as the vulnerable heroine, and several other Wicked contract stars pop up in minor sex roles in support, looking beautiful of course: Kaylani Lei in a flashback tryst with Spears; Alektra Blue as a free-loving bartender humped by Brad; and Mikayla Mendez as a fellow cop. Alec Knight is a cop who has sex at headquarters with Mikayla but is oddly left out of both opening and end credits.
Many crew members have bit parts and Allison's screenplay has an excellent rounded-out finale putting Drake's experiences into perspective, but Raven unfortunately tacks on a stupid ending twist in the now-familiar "Carrie" trickster approach, sabotaging an otherwise serious accomplishment.