Lowest common denominator crap half as effective as the already ineffective first film, A Quieter Place makes me long to be sent to The Quietest Place called the grave just to escape its banal CG-barf bullshit. These monsters, with their jittery daisy-petal heads and beanstalk arms just do not frighten me, moving as weightlessly through their world as skiffs of wind -- they have no presence or personality, they're screeching ciphers with sharp elbows, strangers on a crowded summer subway train where something stinks to high heaven and you can't wait to just get home. There are good actors on-screen and they are asked to quiver and tremble their lips ten thousand times, ad infinitum, until the ceiling caves in. I longed to smother myself with all the little bits of pillow within reach by its witless conclusion. God I hate these movies.