The people around quickly pulled the black man away.
The girlfriend's father took the frightened Chris into the room and explained to him that the flash had triggered an epileptic seizure in his black compatriot—nothing serious.
But Chris knew that wasn't what epilepsy looked like!
He pulled his girlfriend Rose aside in the suburbs and voiced his suspicions.
But she insisted firmly that her dad, a neurosurgeon, said it was epilepsy, so it had to be epilepsy!
Layers of anxiety, subtle clues, and the film's fast pace kept viewers hooked, unable to stop.
Almost everyone was immersed in the urge to uncover the final mystery.
The screen flashed.
The plot pushed forward.
Chris, suspicious, called his friend to investigate the black guy and found police records listed him as missing for years.
Not right—way off.
The lead Chris thought so.
The screen audience thought so.
Chris wondered why Logan was listed as missing.
He was clearly not restricted?
Why not call home?
Why not leave?
Endless questions surged.
Chris grew scared.
He felt the girlfriend's whole family—even the town—was off.
He wanted to leave this creepy place.
Meanwhile, Rose's dad hosted a "silent" auction.
The town's elders arrived, wordless, just raising paddles to bid higher.
The auction item: "Chris."
Finally, a blind old man won with the highest bid.
By now, some viewers guessed the town wanted something from Chris's body?
The earlier praises—good health, beautiful eyes, strong build, "Black is in fashion."
Actually appraising the auction item, so the praise scene felt off for film Chris and real audience.
All whites surrounding and praising a black guy—full of weirdness.
Critics linked to old black slave auctions, similar scrutiny.
The plot continued.
Chris heard from his friend that the "Logan" black guy had been missing per police for years.
The friend, from Chris's description, sensed the town's offness and urged him to leave ASAP—not a place to linger.
Chris freaked, found his girlfriend, said he was leaving.
"Fuck, idiot!"
"Run already—can't you see your girlfriend's in on it?"
"Chris, run—what are you hesitating for?"
Audience immersed.
Chris told his girlfriend, headed upstairs to pack.
But packed and downstairs, found girlfriend's family blocking the door.
This moment, Chris finally got it.
He prepared to fight, charge out.
But lunging at her brother, girlfriend's mom tapped spoon on cup—Chris instantly collapsed like frozen.
His consciousness plunged into darkness like before.
The screen went black.
Then lit up.
Audience saw poor Chris carried away by girlfriend's family.
Chris woke again, hands and feet tied to chair. He struggled desperately, to no avail!
Then, opposite TV turned on, played automatically.
Chris watched TV, white old man appeared, revealed the conspiracy's truth.
Theater dead silent, everyone listening, gripped by horror, dying to know the reason.
Turns out, fearing death, this town devised a way to extend life.
They surgically transplant aging or sick white brains into strong black bodies, allowing whites to live on!
But transplants imperfect, with aftereffects.
The swapped black body retains some soul consciousness, so earlier black Logan briefly awoke from flash stimulation.
Also why black maid cried—probably accidentally triggered flash messing with Chris's camera.
The black maid and butler in Rose's house long seized; souls inside are Rose's grandparents, in black skins with strong black bodies, but essentially white.
Seeing this, Kevin Thomas's scalp tingled, jotting: "This plot reflects real oppression and harm to blacks; whites on top."
Meanwhile, invited black stars, directors, and black audience members shuddered.
Because compared to white viewers, they resonated more with such plot, more empathetic.
Needing black bodies requires suitable blacks lured to town.
So division of labor: some lure blacks, some investigate backgrounds/families, some hypnotize and operate.
Chris's girlfriend Rose lures men everywhere, her mom hypnotizes, her dad does brain swaps.
Of course, not just Rose luring; like those black women, probably lured by other town men.
Finally, town folks auction off black bodies.
Chris, after watching, emotions stirred—he doesn't want to die, won't wait passively.
Suddenly, notices he scratched chair armrest, exposing cotton stuffing.
Then, TV spoon-on-cup sound again— to hypnotize him.
Sure enough, on screen Chris hears sound, eyes close again.
Film heads to climax reveal.
Kevin Thomas picks up pen, about to write, suddenly glances around—everyone focused on screen, no popcorn munching, no whispering, no bathroom runs...
He smiles inwardly; this is Martin's film charm—always gluing viewers to seats.
As a film critic, Kevin Thomas has seen all sorts of audience reactions.
He knows well: every viewer's tastes differ; even the best film can't captivate all.
But Martin Meyers's films have that magic.
He's one of a kind!!!