Review – 6 Degrees of Hell

If it’s six degrees in Hell, perhaps the place has frozen over. If so, it would be time for me to watch this movie again. This viewing experience reminded me of riding in a car with someone who can’t stand to listen to anything on the radio or on a disc for more than 30 seconds. To the extent that plot threads exist at all, the picture hops between them so rapidly and pointlessly that it swiftly becomes impossible to follow the story or care about it in any way. Even my original intent in getting the disc from Netflix – to see whatever became of cute little Jill Whelan – was largely thwarted, as she was in the movie for around 30 seconds and didn’t speak a single line. Overall this amounted to little more than a lengthy marketing gimmick for a haunted house attraction in an old building, assuming “hey, isn’t that the haunted house attraction where they shot that dull, annoying movie?” can be considered marketing. I couldn’t even sleep through it thanks to the constant, piercing shrieks. Wish I’d skipped it