Very few films past or present stray from the predictable form of a fluid linear narrative. Exposition, conflict, resolution, and possibly an occasional flashback or revisiting of an earlier moment---these are all staples of visual story telling. <br /><br />Charlie Sheen's late 80's action masterpiece THE WRAITH, however, successfully ventures down a road much less traveled by filmmakers, a road which guides viewers through an assemblage of scenes which seem somehow related, but give no indication of how or why.<br /><br />Ingeniuosly, the many questions of THE WRAITH, much like the guiding directions in other impressionist images, provide a grander picture of a straight forward story of love, loss, and revenge. Who is the angelic avenger that, one by one, picks off the gang of road-rash-ruffians in a futuristic car? Who, inexplicably halfway through the picture, receives his untimely demise from the ruffians in the trunk of car? Can it be the same character so craftily played by Sheen, a charming young man who both befriends the young short-order chef and knocks boots with the buxomly Sherilyn Flynn? <br /><br />Thankfully the audience is given a clue to THE WRAITH's avante-garde modus in the air brushed leather jacket of Nick Cassavettes: the skull-among-flames symbolizes many things, maybe most important of which is the picture's dramatic refutation of sensible organization. The line between the beautiful, bone-white skull and the jacket's hot, licking flames, is blurred in the same fashion as the line of narrative arch which threads through THE WRAITH.<br /><br />80's Action connoisseurs will appreciate the steely-eyed performance Sheen gives, as well as the supplemental contributions of Chuck Howard and Randy "Uncle Eddy" Quaid. From the first moment Flynn appears on the screen, there can be no doubt that Sheen will take her to the mat---or in this case, an Arizona hot spring---and there can be no doubt that Cassevettes and co. will receive their devilish comeuppance. During the course of such a spectacle, the audience must then ultimately ask itself, will we be able to handle the power contained in rest of this film? And if so, more importantly, will we be able to ever again stomach the banality of traditional film?