Who Killed Bambi?

Seizes on a primal fear and flogs it for two hours.

Marchand capably builds suspense, thanks to a twisty script and nervy performances by Lucas and Quinton.

The truly creepy thing is that there's no bizarre, COMA-like conspiracy behind the malfeasance, just an awful betrayal of trust -- the kind of thing that sends an icy, paranoid chill through the blood just as the anesthetic takes hold.

Too vague in its cat-and-mouse play to succeed as a psychological thriller, Who Killed Bambi? fares better as a visual exercise in white-on-whiteness.

Watching it is like a slow injection of a numbing anesthetic. It may send a chill to your heart, but along with it goes a warning signal to your brain not to believe a word of this hooey.

Effectively creates a menacing atmosphere within the gleaming white halls of the hospital in which it is set, but its story line and characterizations lack the sufficient originality to lift the film above its many better predecessors.

Delivers only annoyance and impatience.