Raising Cain

As the body count mounts, De Palma blurs the line between fantasy and reality with gleeful affrontery, creating a dazzling tapestry of visual cheats and narrative trickery which propels his scarcely credible characters and ludicrous plot - involving multiple personalities, babynapping and homicidal maniacs - through to its nervy conclusion. Read full review

In 1976’s Paul Schrader-scripted Obsession (also featuring Lithgow), DePalma proved he could handle honest sentiment without sending it up. Here he tips the balance toward self-satire. Read full review

In his new thriller, Raising Cain, director Brian De Palma addresses his most vivid personal issues -- his obsession with Hitchcock and twins, and the loss of innocence -- but he runs through them impersonally, as if the luster of his own obsessions has worn off. Read full review

It seems the filmmaker just can't decide where he wants to go with this movie. It's far too predictable and just not scary enough to be a chilling thriller. It's not clever or sophisticated enough to be campy. It's far too insipid to be taken as a thoughtful psychological drama. And it lacks the smooth, compelling or joyful ride expected of pure entertainment. [06 Aug 1992]

Empty at its core, Raising Cain is a deeply cynical, spiteful effort by a director who seems to be both punishing himself for Bonfiregate and sticking his tongue out at those who turned on him when it threatened to become his last train to Hollywood. [07 Aug 1992, p.33]

De Palma clearly did not want to do a conventional thriller, and so his considerable prowess in that area is only occasionally brought to bear. As a result, despite a few finely creepy moments that remind us of his talent, the shocking parts of Raising Cain feel lethargic and lacking in purpose. Read full review

Half of me thinks that Raising Cain is disappointing. The other half thinks it's just stupid. [07 Aug 1992, p.19]

Unfortunately, Raising Cain is largely a retread of De Palma's vintage thrillers from the '70s -- an extended self-homage that makes you wonder if his imagination got frozen in 1980.

Contrivances grow so outlandish as Cain grinds on that De Palma seems to be parodying himself. His intent is seldom humor, but Cain ends up being more inadvertent comedy than thriller. [07 Aug 1992, p.D01]