There’s something inherently fun about the word doppelgänger. It suggests mystery, horror, a psychological duel with yourself, maybe a German opera singer lurking in your mirror. Unfortunately, Avi Nesher’s Doppelganger: The Evil Within doesn’t lean into any of that—unless your idea of horror is watching Drew Barrymore fight her own career choices in 1993.
This movie isn’t so much a supernatural thriller as it is a 100-minute test of your ability to tolerate plot twists that feel like they were written by a drunk soap opera writer while gluing together latex masks. And that’s me being generous.
The Premise: Evil Twin or Evil Script?
Drew Barrymore stars as Holly Gooding, a troubled young woman who flees New York after maybe, possibly murdering her mother. She relocates to Los Angeles, where she rents a room from Patrick (George Newbern), a writer whose name sounds like he belongs on the dust jacket of a Tom Clancy knockoff.
From the start, Holly is stalked by her doppelgänger—sometimes menacing, sometimes seductive, sometimes just there to pad the runtime. Patrick, proving he has the worst instincts of any aspiring novelist, falls for her anyway. Soon he’s knee-deep in latex-mask conspiracies, psychiatric hospitals, trust fund drama, and a psychiatrist who apparently moonlights as a Scooby-Doo villain.
By the time you get to the “Holly splits into two unformed beings” sequence, you’re not scared—you’re exhausted, like someone forced you to binge-watch every Unsolved Mysteries reenactment from 1987 on fast-forward.
Drew Barrymore: Pre-Scream, Post-Dignity
Let’s give Drew credit: she tries. She plays Holly with wide-eyed fragility one minute and sultry menace the next, which sounds good on paper until you realize the film doesn’t actually know which version of her is supposed to be real. She’s not acting in a coherent movie; she’s acting in three different Lifetime thrillers duct-taped together.
This was just three years before she resurrected her career with Scream. Watching Doppelganger now, you can see why Wes Craven took pity on her. It’s like spotting a talented kid singing karaoke at a Chuck E. Cheese.
George Newbern: Hallmark Leading Man in a Horror Movie
Patrick is less a character and more a plot device with cheekbones. George Newbern spends most of the film looking vaguely concerned, occasionally holding a typewriter, and constantly making the kind of romantic decisions that should get him placed on a government watchlist.
He rents a room to a suspected murderer. He ignores every red flag Holly waves in his face like she’s directing traffic. He decides to “investigate” a string of killings by…getting romantically involved with the prime suspect. He’s less a protagonist and more a PSA for why you should never date your tenants.
The Villain: Dr. Heller, PhD in Nonsense
Dennis Christopher plays Dr. Heller, Holly’s psychiatrist and eventual Scooby-Doo-style unmasker. It turns out he’s behind everything: the masks, the fake father, the conspiracies, the gaslighting. He’s like if Hannibal Lecter was replaced by a community theater mime who raided Party City’s clearance bin.
By the time he launches into his “marry Holly for her inheritance” plan, you realize the true villain of this movie isn’t Dr. Heller. It’s the screenwriter, who clearly decided halfway through, Screw supernatural horror, let’s just do Mission: Impossible with bad wigs.
The Horror: Latex, Goo, and Wasted Time
Doppelganger promises horror. What it delivers is a series of genre clichés slathered in Vaseline and confusion.
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Evil twin in the mirror? Check.
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Creepy childhood trauma? Check.
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Dream sequences that feel like leftover music videos from MTV’s late-night slot? Check.
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A “transformation” scene where Drew Barrymore literally splits into two gooey, half-formed versions of herself like she’s auditioning for The Thing 2: Mall Edition? Double check.
The gore, when it shows up, is halfhearted, like the effects team was given twenty bucks and a stern warning not to get any blood on the rented carpets.
The Tone: Lifetime Movie Meets Direct-to-VHS Goo Fest
What makes Doppelganger uniquely painful is its tone. On one hand, it wants to be a serious psychological thriller about identity, abuse, and inherited trauma. On the other, it wants to be a latex-splattered monster movie where people get stabbed by goo-doubles. The result is like watching Terms of Endearment crash headfirst into Ghoulies.
And yet, in moments, it’s so hilariously off-balance you can’t help but laugh. A gas man shows up (played by Sean Whalen, forever “that guy” in horror). Danny Trejo wanders in for a cameo as “Hard Hat.” It’s as if random actors just stumbled onto set and the director decided to keep rolling.
The Ending: Evil Never Dies, It Just Gets Dumber
The film tries to wrap things up with a dream-fakeout-funeral-hospital quadruple twist that makes Inception look straightforward. Is Holly dead? Alive? A monster? A hallucination? Who cares? By this point, you’re just rooting for Patrick to get eaten by his own typewriter.
The “shocking” final image—Holly’s evil twin seductively approaching Patrick before morphing into a monster—feels less like horror and more like the film itself winking and saying, Yeah, we know this was dumb. Want to rent it again?
Why It’s Bad (And Weirdly Fun Anyway)
Let’s be clear: Doppelganger is not good. The script is incoherent. The scares are nonexistent. The plot twists are insulting. The acting veers between “community theater” and “hostage video.” And yet…
There’s a strange, greasy charm to it. Watching Drew Barrymore wrestle her own goo-clone is the kind of cinematic insanity you don’t get from polished studio horror. Watching Dennis Christopher peel off masks like he’s auditioning for a low-budget Mission: Impossible parody has its own grim appeal.
It’s a film so committed to its nonsense that you almost admire it. Almost.
Final Verdict: The Evil Within…Is the Screenplay
Doppelganger is the kind of movie you recommend only to people you secretly hate, or to friends who enjoy watching cinematic train wrecks with a six-pack and heavy sarcasm.
It’s not scary. It’s not sexy. It’s not smart. But it is 1993 distilled into celluloid: latex, melodrama, Drew Barrymore’s confused career choices, and enough bad plotting to fill a landfill.
If you want psychological horror, watch Repulsion. If you want supernatural chills, watch The Exorcist. If you want Drew Barrymore turning into a half-formed goo monster while George Newbern looks mildly confused, congratulations—you’ve found your masterpiece.
