identityAll hell breaks loose on a stormy night for two different groups of people.

First, Dr. Malick arranges a last minute hearing for his patient, serial killer Malcolm Rivers, who is set to be executed in a matter of hours.  Malick convinces the judge to hear new evidence and to consider sparing Rivers’ life.  Malick believes this new evidence will reveal exactly how disturbed Rivers actually is, and that he is as much a victim as the people he killed.

The second group, which the movie spends more time with, find themselves stranded at a motel in the middle of the desert by the storm.  There is Ed, who is chauffeur to Caroline (a bitchy actress); George, his wife (whom Ed ran over), and their son; Paris, a Vegas prostitute; Ginny and Lou, unhappy newlyweds; Detective Rhodes and his criminal prisoner, Maine; and, lastly, motel manager Larry.

After the motel group gets settled in, and they tend to George’s wife’s vehicular trauma, they are all prepared to wait out the storm and leave the next morning to continue about their lives.  Things don’t exactly go as they may have planned.  Things seem odd from the start at the motel, and before anyone can think of getting any rest, the thrown-together guests begin being killed off one by one.  These motel strangers realize they are all connected in some form or fashion; for example:  they all have the same birthday.


Identity is a fun rarity.  It’s a slasher film that keeps you guessing as the twists and turns slowly unfold.  Who is the killer?  Where are the bodies disappearing to?  What’s the connection between the motel action and the hearing reprieve?  All the questions are answered, and the Big Twist will knock you for a loop.  Some viewers may buy it, some may not.  Either way, I didn’t really see it coming.

This is a true original, yet, at the same time, it has familiarity.  A slasher, a locked room mystery, a slice of The Twilight Zone, and a quality thriller.  Identity is B-movie heaven.

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