Mozart Beethoven is dead and his secretary interviews several women the composer bonked wrote music for in an effort to track down the immortal beloved. It’s also an excuse for flashbacks detailing Beethoven’s life.
Anyway, the answer is the milkmaid.
I liked the film so much that I tried to fall asleep while I was watching it.
John Cusack plays a hack writer who writes about tales of the supernatural. His latest book is about haunted hotels, although that’s usually just a matter of marketing. When he gets home, there’s a postcard waiting telling him not to spend the night in Room 1408 in the Dolphin Hotel. Being a sceptic, he takes his own counsel and stays the night anyway.
The room really is evil; our man gets barbecued, and thus becomes another victim.
I assume that the film is really a metaphor for the tortured human mind because once again we have a character who has never got over the death of his child, which, I get the feeling, is a common motif in horror films I’ve seen over the past year or so. Perhaps I’m exaggerating.
Samuel L. Jackson is the manager who tries to persuade the writer not to take the room.
Barely worth a shrug.