The Alphabet Killer is an effective horror film masquerading as a police thriller, based on a series of unsolved serial killer murders that occurred in Rochester between 1970 and 1973. Director Rob Schmidt and star Eliza Dushku previously collaborated on the backwoods cannibal film Wrong Turn. They’ve set their sights considerably higher here, and have succeeded for the most part.

The victims of the real “Double Initial Killings” were three young girls who were raped and strangled. The killer was never brought to justice. Each victim’s initials matched the first letter of the township where her body was discovered. In the film, Dushku plays a fictional homicide detective who gets so wrapped up in the case that she experiences visions of her victims as rotting corpses that shadow her every move. These images turn out to be not the visions of a psychic but hallucinations brought on by latent schizophrenia, making Dushku an underdog with a real handicap, a la James Stewart in Vertigo or Rear Window. The concept enables the filmmakers to employ all manner of cheap shocks that would have been inappropriate in David Fincher’s Zodiac, which this film emulates. In a neat twist, Dushku must stop taking her medication to keep her wits sharp, which causes even more hallucinations.

Best known for her roles in TV’s Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Tru Calling (and Joss Whedon’s upcoming Dollhouse), Dushku delivers a powerful and vulnerable performance that might have catapulted her to the “A” list in a bigger, more mainstream production; it’s easy to see why she served as the associate producer. Cary Elwes and Tom Noonan are convincing as detectives, and I was impressed by Tom Malloy’s naturalistic turn as Dushku’s detective partner. Malloy wrote and produced the film and his scenes with its star—especially a heartbreaking one with Melissa Leo and Martin Donovan as grieving parents--are indicative of the superior material squeezed into this B thriller.

The Alphabet Killer kept me in suspense and wowed me with its craftsmanship, but left me wondering why the filmmakers went through the trouble of shooting in Rochester when they were creating a complete work of fiction. Anyone who fails to guess the villain’s identity has never watched a TV whodunit, and the climax is straight out of the 1980s slasher film Splatter University. Part of me applauds the audacity of the creators to end the film on a note that evokes both Japanese and Italian horror films, but this emotionally involving chiller is as schizophrenic as its heroine.

—greg lamberson