With its vast plot holes, wooden acting and wanton violence, this serial killer tale has the feel of a straight-to-video flop

Sadly, nowadays there is no video for this to go straight to. Maybe someone should reopen a branch of Blockbuster just so a VHS copy can be ceremoniously placed in a bargain bin by the exit.
The Stylist lumbers heavily along as if it’s wearing deep-sea diver’s boots, a queasy mash-up of serial-killer nightmare with 90s-style Single White Female-esque thriller. The acting and directing are entirely terrible, the editing and pacing are so sluggish you’ll feel as if you’re going into a persistent vegetative state, the plot is tiresomely unthought-through, the split-screen shots don’t work and the musical score is so pointless and undifferentiated it sounds like elevator muzak. I do have to admit that the final wedding scene, with one particular cutaway shot of a beaming bridesmaid, does have a certain OTT outrageousness. But that doesn’t justify the price of admission – or of sitting through all that has gone before.