Grandma had diabetes. She had tremendous difficulty in sticking to a strict diet. In the late 80s, she came to live with us.
My mother converted the dining room into a bedroom by adding both a bathroom and an extra set of doors: Grandma slept right beside the kitchen.
In the middle of the night, it wasn't uncommon to hear her scrabbling across the kitchen floor and opening the fridge.
By day, she always seemed so slow and lumbering but, my father maintains, by night, she practically ran to the kitchen once everyone was in bed.
She died in 1989. During my sister's stay this week, I was reminded that, to this day, people still hear her making her way to the kitchen and they swear that they hear the fridge door slamming.
The Armchair Director
This is a disappointment in general. There are some truly fantastic, Hitchcockian spins but it doesn't deliver in the end. In fact, it doesn't really deliver in the middle either.
My suggestion? Remake it, use the fantastic gothic elements more fully and leave some questions unanswered.
Of course, I've been a little irritable since I finished my readings tonight.