Love and Demons We live in a beautiful city, and it provides an appropriately lovely backdrop for J.P. Allen's bracingly dark comedy Love and Demons, a film whose ideas and performances overcome its extremely limited budget. A nameless man (Chris Pflueger) and woman (Lucia Frangione) find that their road to marriage and contentment is rockier than anticipated, thanks in no small part to the constant intervention of personal demons that only they can see (director Allen as the man's demon, and Arnica Skulstad Brown as the woman's), demons who do everything in their power to steer the lovers toward the worst possible choices, including indulgence, infidelity, and possibly murder. It is, of course, all a metaphor — the male demon, as de facto narrator, says as much to the audience — and Love and Demons occasionally feels like a demonic, San Franciscan response to Wim Wenders' Berlin-based Wings of Desire. Director Allen turns that the fact that it was shot on video to his advantage, using some very basic tricks to add visual interest, such as split-screen or reversing the image. And solarization! When was the last time we saw the cinemagical effect of solarization in a movie? So simple, yet so effective. Love and Demons also proves that self-evident fact that nobody hates screenwriters more than another screenwriter.