It couldn't have been more than five minutes into "The Disappearance of Alice Creed" when my girlfriend leaned over and asked: "What kind of a movie did you say this is?" It was just at the point where Gemma Arterton was tied spread-eagled to a bed with a ball-gag in her mouth, and her burly kidnappers were proceeding to cut off all her clothes.
"Mmmmm, I'm pretty sure it's not torture porn," I said, not entirely confidently. Fortunately I was right.
After gesturing in a seriously seedy grindhouse direction at the outset — the sort of nasty exploitation flick where you feel like downing a double shot of disinfectant afterward — "The Disappearance of Alice Creed" moves straight into claustrophobic head-games and morphs into a delightfully delirious suspense flick. It's one of those "stick a couple of people in a small room and watch them lose it" movies, in the tradition of Richard Linklater's "Tape" or the original "Sleuth."