Liberty—or “Libby,” whenever she’s not “baby girl,” according to her doting mother Michelle (Mena Suvari)—isn’t nearly as interesting as whatever the hell’s going on with John, a topless and very fit man who sleepwalks—he insists on calling it “somnambulism”—has a mood-lit science lab in Michelle’s basement, and is very serious about salt-water fish, as well as venomous and “really rare” species of centipedes. “You’re kind of a weird dude,” Libby tells John. He laughs from his solar plexus. “I guess I am. But, I mean, weird is cool, right?” Well, about that ...
“What Lies Below” begins with some promise thanks to Suvari and Horvath’s easy, credible mother/daughter chemistry. Michelle picks up Libby from science camp, and is as giddy to see her (and to show off John) as Libby is to be left alone. Some good-natured, but canned discomfort ensues, with Libby turning off the car radio as fast as Michelle can put it on. And while preliminary discussions about John aren’t exactly inspired—they have sex, but it’s also a serious relationship!—the look of heedless joy on Suvari’s face nicely compliments Horvath’s sulking.
With that said, “What Lies Below” mostly coasts on its never-fully exploited main scenario: what would you do if an attractive eccentric tried to be your stepfather? Tucker’s arch, halting tone of voice presumably suggests to viewers that John’s not all there—imagine “Legally Blonde,” only now it’s a horror movie about a smart and attractive man—as is his character’s interest in fertility stones, and his unusual habit of sniffing his own balled-up tee-shirts. John also haunts Libby’s dreams, where she sees him wading into a shallow pool of psychedelic, orangish-pink light. He also gets a little too familiar with Libby when she gets her period; “you have a little red in your hair” he tells her without much lust or excitement in his voice. This, too, is ultimately revealing.
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