This may well be the darkest film of the year. Not dark as in fucked up, woe is the world, evil nastyness prevails kinda dark, its way too second rate Saw for that. No I mean dark as in, someone didn't pay Powergen, put another pound in the meter, even carrot chomping motherfuckers like Bugs couldn't see what was going on, kinda dark. This lack of illumination may be a blessing because what you do get to see isn't really worth opening your peepers for in the first place.
The spellcheck cursing Milo Ventimiglia plays Dr. Grey (is he dark/is he light? why not name him Dr. Mysterious instead) a charity working, teachers pet Pathologist who spends his freetime doting on his fiancee. Once he starts an internship at a hospital with ubercrazy Michael 'he was the cop in Garden State' Weston he soon transforms into a crack smoker who likes to fuck aggresively in the same room as fresh corpses that he recently made all dead. If there is a plot or goal that he's hoping to achive by the time the credits role its lost on me.
The trailer promised a film from the creators of Crank and so therefore I was hoping for some ridiculous, possibly nauseating, over the top violence with tongue firmly in mouth cavity. Sadly this film has delusions of grandeur that lead you to believe the makers thought that this opus was on a par with classics such as Se7en. One speech at the start seems espoused by John Doe's retarded nephew.
Heroes Milo continues his mystifying belief that if he turns one corner of his mouth down it signifies emoting. The speed at which his characters moral compass spins from North to South is as ridiculous as the gaping 6ft deep plotholes. Questions such as, 'would you really bring your girlfriend into the same town and environment that you share with your supposedly secret fucked up friends?' and 'would the authorities let you perform the autopsy of a loved one, when you would without a doubt be a suspect?' can only be answered with a big fat No. Coincidentally its the same answer to whether you should watch Pathology.