I see a place, a mythical place, it is not a house, it is certainly not a home it is a concoction of all its surroundings, it embodies a mystique of feelings unspoken, locked in ones heart by a key that one wishes that no one will find. Only in Hollywood can such a picture be presented to an audience that would see something that was opulent and gaudy, large but not homey, cold but not warm. You sense that something so beautiful, this mansion, like a person you fall in love with has flaws and yes, those secrets, those secrets. As time goes on the participants in our little tragedy start to see the flaws and those secrets unravel like a fine piece of silk that has snagged on a splinter. We see the secrets start as almost a little ripple on the water that was tickled...