I need to know the amount of cocaine Jodie Foster’s agent was consuming when he agreed to 1976. Prostitution? You betcha! Whimsical family friendly Disney film? Bring it. Murderous smart ass kid? I can feel the money hitting my bank account!

The latter is obviously the film I watched for Day 2, unless body swapping is a horror movie for you. Which it definitely is for any teenager watching Freaky Friday. Ugh, old parts.

Anyways, back to this film with such a long name, I expected it to be an experimental theater in Yonkers. The premise is that a 13 year old lives alone in a small seaside town, possibly in Maine. It’s hard to tell. Either way, the town is extremely bigoted against poors and Italians, which I think might be code for antisemitism.

The “leader” of the town is a sub-par real estate agent who owns the house Jodie Foster’s character Rynn lives. She’s an awful landlord who obviously violates a lot of laws by constantly barging into the house and rearranging furniture. She’s also an awful human being because she allows her known pedophile son (played by Martin Sheen and too much polyester) to roam around freely.

The reason Rynn lives alone is because her recently deceased father, a poet, decided that “society” is out to get his child, and therefore he taught her how to be an adult so she can survive without him. He also taught her how to murder and cover up a body. Which she does, and is quite good at it. So win ONE for home schooling!

She has two allies throughout the film. An older teenager with an unspecified illness. “Sickly child” is such a broad term everyone just accepted for way too long. Just say it was either polio or lead paint. This boy, Mario, is very keen to go along with her hobbies, as all good boyfriends are. And she is very keen to have sex with him to control him. There’s a weird bath scene, and an obvious body double that makes me just feel horrified for Jodie Foster.

The other is a cop (and Mario’s uncle) with good intentions but no actual power. He can’t arrest Martin Sheen’s character for lurking around Rynn’s house since he technically owns it. He can’t arrest him for being a general creep because the 1970s was the Golden Age of Predators with their lack of laws and their ribbed turtlenecks. So at this point, Rynn knows it’s only a matter of time before she has to take matters into her own hands.

The movie was probably supposed to be a psychological thriller, but it’s more of an anti-tourism PSA for Maine. There’s a reason King sets his novels up there and Sen. Susan Collins somehow exists. The devil is in the secrets, and the secrets get buried under 6 months of snow so everyone forgets them.