This erotic thriller seems to have all of the pieces required by the subgenre, but despite a decent try at some heat, it glides across its cool, glossy surface, forgettable and passionless. Admittedly, Krug is rather terrific in her role as Shattered's evil seductress. Her mouth seems to naturally form a smile when she speaks; it's disarming when she's being pleasant and alarming when she flips to torture mode. ("Mother's maiden name!" she demands sweetly as she revs a power drill.) And how could Frank Grillo, as Sky's swaggering bulldog of a sidekick, and John Malkovich, as a slithery, galumphing, peeping-Tom landlord, not bring some much-needed fun to the movie? Somehow, though, they just don't.
Perhaps Shattered is a little too enamored of its million-dollar look and feel. Everything is chilly and vague, a little too clean and computerized, with screens hanging everywhere in Chris' mansion. (One depicts a futuristic clock so that we can literally watch the time crawling by.) Plus, it's very difficult to believe that anyone who could amass a fortune would be stupid enough to fall for this scheme. And Chris and Sky's relationship moves so fast, based on so little, that the plot developments make little impact. This genre requires a little more abandon to really succeed and this one barely registers a crack, let alone a shatter.