I loved "1922," equal parts disturbing and character driven. Its roots go deep into classic horror literature soil, part Poe, absolutely King, a few Lovecraft rats in the wall, moving at a dreadful pace of constant discomfort. I thought I read somewhere Stephen King as a child once drove through Nebraska, miles and miles of terrifying corn rows, and he never forgot it, thus "Children of the Corn" and maybe, just maybe, "1922." Like the best stories of "Tales from the Crypt," you commit a crime, you always get caught. The crime in "1922" - not beyond the realm of possibility as crimes far more implausible and for far lessor reasons have been committed through the years - is bloody, messy and traumatic. At one point, I couldn't help but think of Ed Gein isolated on that Wisconsin farm, barely a book to read, nothing but madness to contemplate. Jane is terrific in this role, barely recognizable, as good a performance as you are likely to see. We are haunted by mistakes from our past, and for Wilfred James, the ghosts are creeping ever closer, and he will have to pay. A terrifying tale with tragic characters, ghosts always whispering in your ear.