text: I purchased a DVD of this film for a dollar at the big dept store. That's probably the best and kindest comment I have to offer on it. At least it didn't cheat me out of the cost of lunch.<br /><br />The problem with "Chiller" is Craven's problem as a director. The man has his apologists who claim his traveling papers prove he's a really smart guy and all-around sharp conceptualist. But it's no secret that, as a director, he has never possessed one iota of the visual and story-telling sense of a Hitchcock. As vigorously attested by "Chiller", he's much closer to that legendary flat-foot Hershel Gordon Lewis. What Craven lacks as a director is the main ingredient that would lift him from director for hire to a higher plane of film- making.<br /><br />Let's be specific. The transitional moments of this film are sleek. The establishing shots give it the feel of a quality production. The film looks professionally put together, in the way a film shot by a TV commercial director would. (A thought: The films only visual distinction, these transitions that at least look professionally handled may very well be the work of some second unit directors.) It's the parts between the bridges and smooth transitions -- the drama -- that fall flat. <br /><br />The core of the proceedings are invariably perfunctorily handled. The critical shots (after, say, the departing car drives into the well-positioned camera, then we cut to the night exterior of a hospital, then to the waiting area and hallway, then to the phone booth in the corner that will figure in the next bit of action) are quickly dispensed so we can hurry up and get to the next part. Craven never comes anywhere close to exploding the dramatic or visual possibilities of any moment. The net result of all this misplaced attention to the least important parts, and the fumbling rush to keep things moving, is a film that feels like the work of the fledgling art student who sharpens all his pencils, fussily adjusts his easel and lighting set-up, grinds all his pigments, stretches and primes his canvas ...and then has nothing to say. Craven, like the art student, never gets to the meat of the exercise.<br /><br />For Craven apologists who will point out that this film was made for TV, I will point to Spielberg's "Duel" and say no more.