Apparently, filmmaker David Dobkin was inspired to make this after seeing "Fargo." Despite never reaching the creative heights as the Coens' 1996 masterpiece, "Clay Pigeons," set in a small Montana town peopled with idiosyncratic characters, functions well as a unique independent film with bite and quirky oddness to spare.
Here's the deal- loser Clay (Joaquin Phoenix) is banging his best friend Earl (Gregory Sporleder's) white-trash girlfriend, Amanda (Georgina Cates). When Earl gets sick of being two-timed, he gets drunk and commits suicide in front of Clay, trying to frame him for his death.
This leads to a string of events that leave Clay totally shaken and out of his comfort zone, as bodies pile up, friendly serial killer Lester Long (played by Vince Vaughn, but don't let that run you off) befriends Clay, and acerbic FBI agent Agent Shelby (Jeanane Garofelo) is on the case.
At it's worst, "Stoker" is stiff, awkward, and simply too artsy for it's own good. At it's best, however, it is beautifully photographed, well-acted, and loaded with atmosphere.
Although there are certainly a lack of likable characters, "Stoker" gets points off the spookily edgy presentation of it's subject matter, and from the great performance and characterization of the seemingly fragile lead's Uncle Charlie, and enigmatic charmer with a killer smile and a lifetime's worth of secrets.
Young India Stoker (Mia Wasikowska) is thrown off balance by her father's death and the appearence of her mysterious Uncle (Matthew Goode,) who evokes feelings in her of... what? Yearning? Anger? Sadness? A beast lurking just below the surface, waiting to jump out and take over?
A family vacation takes an ugly turn
when four armed men invade a fishing camp. The heroine of this story is Alison, a quiet, bookish middle-aged mom and schoolteacher. She doesn't think of herself as a hero, and she certainly doesn't see herself as someone who would kill to protect her loved ones. But when she sees her nine-year-old son Jimmy in danger, she discovers more courage and resilience than she imagined she had. She also finds an unexpected ally in her battle.
I am married to a man who has learned more than he ever wanted to know about people who some folks uncharitably call "white trash." He's been a police officer for 18 years, and we have our share of bat-crap crazy here in Augusta County, Virginia.
I've heard a few stories about local families, stemming from domestic disturbance calls and people flipping out over being served warrants, that might rival Jerry Springer. Not to mention the poor guy who was being revived by rescue workers, after a heart attack, as his wife made her son go through his pockets for spare change.
So I guess it isn't surprising that John didn't see the penultimate rednecks in Killer Joe as excessively stereotypical. He reckoned he'd met a few of them.
Patrick Bateman is in his mid-twenties, son of a wealthy family and successful Harvard-educated businessman living the "American Dream" in New York City. He's obsessed with the superficial trappings of wealth and success -- who has the finer business card? How can I get a reservation at Dorsia?
Undeniably narcissistic, he is obsessed with fashion and his appearance. Buff, tanned, and handsome, he has no difficulty attracting beautiful, successful women. Or he'll hire a prostitute in a pinch. But the ordinary experience of sex, along with the other pleasures that fill his over-privileged life -- have long since stopped sparking his interest. He seems perpetually bored and talks about his own life as if it were a film, peppering his narrative with terms like "scene" and "smash cut," as if he were merely an observer of his own existence.
Eva was a successful businesswoman and author as well as a wife and mother of two children. Now she is estranged from her husband and daughter. Her son Kevin is incarcerated, in the wake of a school shooting, for a series of brutal murders, Eva's world is cold and narrow. Her only real communication with anyone is through letters she writes to her husband, Franklin.
In this epistolary novel, Eva reflects on Kevin's history, starting before conception, leading to his becoming a vicious psychopath. She explores her own culpability in who he became, along with her conflicted relationship with Franklin.
From conception and birth, Eva was unable to bond with Kevin. Ambivalence about motherhood and the changes it would bring to her life, postpartum depression, an unsuccessful attempt to breastfeed, and the exhaustion that goes with comes with a baby who cries incessantly -- these are all normal experiences. Things many women have gone through before becoming basically happy moms who are madly in love with their children. But for Eva, this becomes a slippery slope, and things only become worse.
During her retelling of Kevin's earliest years, I felt trapped in Eva's mind, only able to see things from her perspective, and I suspected she was an unreliable narrator. I could only see things through the filter of Eva's memory, shaped by her own pain, frustration, and rage and by her knowledge of who Kevin became. She saw an infant who cried, not because of colic but because he raged at the world. A newborn who deliberately and vigorously rejected her breast. A toddler who slyly played his parents against one another and refused to be potty trained because he'd be losing a battle against the mother he hated. These perceptions are incredibly warped, not to mention developmentally impossible. Yet the novel drew me so tightly into the confines of Eva's reality that these things seemed quite real. And as Kevin grew into a cold, calculating boy, with an urge to destroy anyone who was capable of feeling real joy or passion, parts of it began to seem believable. Or did it? The line between delusion and reality is blurred here.
Would it have made a difference if Eva had been able to love her son? There is no clear answer. They are caught in a vicious cycle. Her attitude undoubtedly impacts his behavior and view of the world. His behavior triggers her rage and prevents her from bonding with him. This, in turn, deepens his hostility. They are locked in a cruel cycle which we know will end tragically. Nevertheless Eva, who has always relished pushing herself to tackle daunting challenges, works hard at being a conscientious mother.
In a parallel way, Eva and her husband Franklin are trapped in a destructive dance. Franklin is in denial about the fact that his son is deeply troubled. This enrages Eva, who pushes him to see things from her perspective. This only makes Franklin more fiercely protective of Kevin and distrustful of his wife. They have another baby, who becomes "Eva's child," and Franklin keeps their little girl at a distance, adding to the dysfunctional mess.
I didn't find Eva and Franklin to be likeable characters. They struck me as self-absorbed, a bit pedantic, and riddled with prejudices. Eva seldom views people with acceptance and compassion, she tends to view the world with cold detachment, and she maintains a slight sense of intellectual superiority. One of the most chilling and powerful aspects of this novel is the ways in which Eva and Kevin -- despite their animosity -- identify with each other. In her hauntingly sadistic son, Eva sees -- in an exaggerated way -- a mirror of her own dark side.
How much of this is her basic nature and to what degree is her personality painfully mutated by the tragedy she suffered? Again, we only have her perspective in the present, so it's hard to say. I also felt drawn to Eva by the insight and compassion she sometimes feels, her intense intelligence and curiosity about the world, and her love for her husband and daughter. She's a complex character who I couldn't love, or even consistently empathize with, but I certainly couldn't dismiss. And she is a character I will never forget.
This is a dark, miserable story which is likely to make you lose sleep, especially if you're a mother. That goes double if you're the mother of a child with any kind of emotional problems. And it's a brilliant novel. The central characters, and the themes this
book explores, are so incredibly rich and multi-layered, it may take me
months to sort through all my thoughts about it.
One of the things that makes it so unsettling is that it explores issues experienced -- on a much smaller scale -- by many parents. Difficulty bonding with a child. Raising a kid who isn't the child you expected or wanted. Seeing parts of yourself you reject mirrored in your own children. Disappointment in yourself as a parent and crippling guilt when their lives don't turn out as you'd hoped. These things sound ugly when you say them aloud, but I believe shades of these feelings exist in many "normal," loving parents.
This book also gave me insight into people with personality disorders: antisocial or borderline personalities. Eva seemed to have uncanny insight into the mind of her son, a person who seemed innately incapable of ordinary love, excitement or joy. This left him hollow and driven by rage. It's probably impossible to really see inside the mind of someone like Kevin, but there were moments -- in this novel -- when I felt I was extremely close.
This is a novel that left me feeling ragged. I want to put it out of my mind, and at the same time I don't want to stop thinking about it. I don't want to talk about it, and I'm burning to discuss it with someone. I want to see inside Kevin's and Eva's minds, but it's too unsettling.
Above all, it's a gorgeously written, challenging novel, probably one of the best I've ever read, and it's one of those rare books that shifted my view of people and of the world a little bit. It's definitely one I will never forget.
Have you read this book? If so, what are your thoughts?
When I was in high school, way back in the dark ages when Ronald Reagan was serving his first term in office, I read Rage by Stephen King. It's a dark, wonderful novella about a young teen acting out his violent urges in the classroom. I thought it was a clever, unique idea. Eerily believable, but safely outside the bounds of reality.
Much later, when I'd become the mother of two young kids -- one of whom was in school -- we all heard the news of the killings in Columbine, and our world changed. It was the first of many such incidents which left our country scrambling for answers. How does a child become a seemingly remorseless killer? The media has rounded up the usual suspects, everything from bad parenting to an overabundance of violent video games and heavy metal music. In our eagerness to wrap our minds around something that baffles and terrifies us, we clutch at every possible explanation.
Unsurprisingly, grappling with the tragedy of school shootings has become part of the zeitgeist of our time, reflected in various novels and movies. Among the most recent is Lynne Ramsay's We Need to Talk About Kevin, adapted from the novel of the same title by Lionel Shriver.
This film tells its story from the perspective of Eva Khatchadourian (Tilda Swinton), mother of Kevin, a high school student who, at age 15, took the lives of some of his classmates. Treated as a pariah by the community and in greatly reduced financial circumstances, Eva accepts a job with a small travel agency. As she goes through her quotidian routines, she is treated with rage or contempt everywhere she goes. Even a simple trip to the grocery store becomes a humiliating ordeal. The story we see on screen is almost a stream of consciousness, shifting back and forth in time. We see her in the present, going through the motions of living and enduring silent visits with Kevin in the juvenile detention facility. We catch glimpses of happier times, before she and her husband had children, snippets of the incident at the high school, which crushed so many lives, and a jumble of memories of her life with Kevin, from conception through adolescence. Although Eva says little about what is going through her mind, I sense that she's reliving the past, remembering Kevin as a disturbed boy, and wondering whether she, in some way, is to blame. Eva appears to have been ambivalent about pregnancy and new motherhood. Kevin's infancy was difficult -- he seems to have had colic and cried constantly. We get the impression that, because of all this, Eva had a great deal of difficulty bonding with her son. Are we meant to believe this contributed to Kevin's blossoming sociopathy?
As a small child, Kevin develops atypically, showing what might be interpreted as signs of autism -- he doesn't talk, doesn't respond to attempts to engage him in play, has low muscle tone, and is very late potty training. Of course, people on the autism spectrum don't tend to be sociopathic. And even from a tender age, we see something dark and unnerving in Kevin. Eva sometimes responds badly to his behavior, locking them both in a vicious cycle.
Eva's husband Franklin (John C. Reilly), who plays a disappointingly small role in this film, seems to bond easily with Kevin. We see Kevin deliberately cultivate that while treating his mother with contempt -- artfully playing his parents against each other. And as Kevin grows from a scary kid to a dangerous teenager, Franklin remains solidly in denial. (Which doesn't explain, to my satisfaction, why Eva didn't insist on getting the child professional help. Is there a part of her that's in denial too? Is she hobbled by her own guilt? But I digress.)
It's easy to see why this movie received so much critical acclaim. Tilda Swinton was magnificent -- her portrayal of Eva, a woman whose world has constricted tightly around her leaving her with little but grief and regret, is harrowing. While I didn't find her a particularly likeable character, she earned my empathy and respect. Ezra Miller's performance, as the adolescent Kevin, is chilling. He is a young actor to watch.
I found the abrupt shifts in time a bit confusing but incredibly effective. I felt like I was seeing the world through Eva's mind, constantly churning with memories, regrets, and disturbing flashbacks. This was enhanced by skillful cinematography and glimpses of stillness and silence at just the right moments. The movie left me with plenty of questions. Here is one. The story is told from Eva's point of view; to what degree are her memories skewed? When Kevin was a small child, we see a deliberate maliciousness in his refusal to respond to her efforts to help him develop normally. Was this real? Or was this a product of her imagination, addled with weariness and frustration? Did Kevin actually coldly play his parents against each other as we see him doing on screen? Or did Eva's difficult emotions at that time skew her memories? Was Franklin really as frustratingly oblivious to Kevin's problems as she remembers? Is her perception that nearly everyone treats her with hostility accurate? Or is she, in some sense, an unreliable narrator? This movie is incredibly disturbing, especially to a viewer who happens to be a mom. It's also thought-provoking. It's likely to leave viewers wrestling with questions about what triggers sociopathy in children. What causes evil to grow where we expect to see only innocence? What role, if any, do the parents play in this? Do we scapegoat the parents of seriously disturbed youngsters? None of us are perfect parents (believe me), but people find it surprisingly easy to cast the first stone. Maybe that makes people feel safe. If the parents of evil or seriously disturbed youngsters are horrible people, then what's happening to them won't touch us. We're good people. Our children will turn out O.K.
If only life were so simple. We Need to Talk About Kevin is an impressive film. A very visual style of storytelling, which lets us into Eva's world while wisely not revealing too much, outstanding acting and direction, and artful cinematography -- along with difficult and timely themes -- make this movie incredibly memorable.
Do I recommend it? Absolutely. Will I ever watch it again? Hell no. I am reading the novel though, hoping for more insight into these characters. Because that's just the kind of masochist I am. Rating: (4.5/5)
Often charming and manipulative. Potentially brutal. Lacking in empathy and a sense of conscience. Crazy as shit house rats. Antisocial personalities, particularly those who are spectacularly violent, offer endless fodder for writers and film-makers.
This is undoubtedly a very broad topic, but it's a bit more challenging for me since I don't watch many films in the action, horror or crime genres. In fact, some of these are from movies I wouldn't have watched were it not for MovieBuff25's influence. ;-)
There will be glaring omissions, simply because I'm not including characters from movies I haven't seen (e.g. A Clockwork Orange, No Country for Old Men). Please add your own selections in the comments section, and I'll add them to the list. Which are your favorite movies are characters on this list?
His life would be so much better if he could just get rid of Daddy. Then he could live comfortably, on his father's money, which his affectionate and looney Mom. He just needs the right guy to help him pull off the perfect crime.
2. Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins) -- Psycho (1960)
I may seem like an ordinary guy who still lives with his mommy. But wait'll you see what I've got in my basement!
Dubbed by NPR as "a most terrifying mama's boy," this character brought the Oedipal psycho-killer into popular consciousness. Director Alfred Hitchcock took great pains to make sure the now-famous "twist" would not be revealed before his film hit theaters.
3. Hannibal Lecter (Sir Anthony Hopkins) -- Silence of the Lambs (1991)
There's nothing like having somebody for dinner, with a side of fava beans and a little Chianti.
4. Maynard (Duane Whitaker) Pulp Fiction (1994)
Ah ... this movie is overflowing with fodder for this list. But I decided to pick just one, so here's the winner. This is one of the most inexplicably sadistic, bat shit crazy characters in the history of movies. Of course. Who else would take on Marcellus Wallace?
"Nobody kills anyone in my store except me and Zed ... (doorbell) That's Zed."
"Forget the briefcase. Bring out The Gimp!"
5. Matthew Poncelet (Sean Penn) -- Dead Man Walking (1995)
Sister Helen Prejean's faith leads her to work against capital punishment and to believe that every human is ultimately redeemable. I found her commitment to finding the light of God in every person, no matter what he's done, inspiring. The world needs many more people like her. And I would have loved for her to be right. But I think the bottom line in this movie, and in life, is that some people are simply evil and can't be helped.
When I saw this movie, I was working as a counselor with troubled youth. I'd met a few who I believed to have antisocial personality disorder for whom I held little hope. This is a brutal thing to say about a teenager. But sometimes you just know. It's not purely based on diagnostic criteria. You just get a "vibe." There's something missing in their eyes. And you wonder why.-- when most humans come into this world innocent and amply equipped to experience love and empathy -- does this happen?
I experienced all this watching Sean Penn's performance. He had that exact look in his eyes. I actually found the movie so disturbing I had to pause it and leave the room several times.
6. Begby (Robert Carlyle) -- Trainspotting (1996)
You've got your cold, calculating sociopath, silently planning his next move. And then you got Begby. This guy could go from some semblance of normal to raging, bat shit crazy on the turn of a dime.
This is one of the most brilliant movies of all time. The criminals in this film range from mean-spirited and stupid to coldly brutal, with Gaear Grimsrud being at the top of the scale. He's basically a hollow shell of a human being, rarely speaking and not hesitating to kill someone in cold blood, even if it's only for the sheer hell of it.
The chemistry between him and his chatty, sidekick Carl (Steve Buscemi) -- who is sleazy but less cold-blooded and has an eye for prostitutes -- is priceless. Gaear is strictly business, as in "Shut the fuck up! Or I'll throw you back in the trunk, you know?" And he sure is handy with a wood chipper.
8. Ordell Robbie (Samuel L. Jackson) -- Jackie Brown (1997)
I have to admit, I love it when Samuel L. Jackson goes ape shit and starts cursing.
"AK-47. The very best there is. When you absolutely, positively got to
kill every motherfucker in the room, accept no substitutes."
9. Hayley Stark (Ellen Page) -- Hard Candy (2005)
After three weeks of chatting online with a 32-year-old photographer, 14-year-old Hayley Stark meets him
in a coffee shop. After some flirtation, he takes her home. This seems like the kind of scenario your mother warned you about -- being picked up online by a sexual predator.
But all is not as it seems. Hayley slips a little something in the guy's drink. He wakes up tied to a chair. Hayley accuses him of being a pedophile, and the torture begins.
Oh, and she's an aspiring medical student and is eager to perform a do-it-yourself castration. I challenge any male to make it through this movie without being doubled over on the floor, cringing. I'm just sayin'.
10. Gabriel Engel (André Hennicke)-- Antibodies (Antikörpe) (2005)
I look better in red.
Although this film has been glibly referred to as "the German Silence of the Lambs," it is very different and -- in many ways -- more complex. Child rapist and serial killer Gabriel Engel is arrested in a spectacular
police strike. Hoping to close a case in his own jurisdiction, small town cop Michael Martens travels to the big city to
interrogate him.
Meanwhile Michael is dealing with the brutality of his father-in-law and disturbing signs of antisocial personality disorder in his own young son. Michael is a very repressed person, his life carefully circumscribed by his work and his strict religious beliefs. His encounter with Gabriel brings Michael in touch with darker parts of his own nature. And -- in true Hannibal Lecter style -- this nut job is damn good at getting into your head.
This is a rich, complex psychological movie and an interesting character study of Michael. It made me think of the Jungian concept of "the shadow" -- we all have a dark side, and the more fiercely it's repressed the larger it looms when it does creep out.
What spoiled the movie for me was the ending ... SPOILER (highlight to read).I disliked the film's attempt at a dramatic ending, when Michael sets out to kill his own son, who he believes to have committed a rape and murder, and is stopped by proof of his son's innocence which is -- literally -- flown in at the last minute. First of all, I thought the allusion to the biblical story of Abraham and Isaac was laid on WAY too thick. Trust your audience's intelligence, and make those biblical allusions subtle, please. Second, I was sorely disappointed by what had been a complex, interesting movie ending with a deux ex machina. If anyone has seen Antibodies and has an opinion on the film or the ending, I'd love to hear it!
11. Harry Waters (Ralph Fiennes) -- In Bruges (2008)
Ralph Fiennes was -- as always -- amazing as a psychotic, unyielding English crime boss. The Sicilians have nothing on this guy! He also happens to be a family man with a wife and three kids who probably wonder why he spends so much time away "on business."
Part of the unholy trifecta therapists are told to watch out for, when assessing potential antisocial personality disorder in childhood, is #1 cruelty to animals & #2 setting fires. Guess what this guy did when he was a kid? He set his sister's pet bird on fire. Yup.
As an adult, he finds a niche with the U.S. military -- my guess is that he was trained in doing interrogations. A skill he puts to good use when his life goes down a darker path.
This movie totally freaked me the fuck out. Like the iconic "gimp" scene in Pulp Fiction, I found it incredibly hard to sit through. How much human brutality and evil can a wimp like me be expected to take in one sitting? And it was hard for me to see Noah Taylor in this role after he was so adorable as the tormented young musician David Helfgott in Shine (before he grew up and became Geoffrey Rush). But he is undoubtedly a magnificent actor.
One wouldn't expect a sociopath like Nate to feel genuine love. But humans are often not so clear-cut. And Nate truly does love the young woman with whom he connects -- a person who is arguably as damaged and dangerous as he is. That is an area in which indie British film-maker Simon Rumley really shines -- creating morally ambiguous characters, people we fear or loathe but can't dismiss altogether.
13. Henry (Michael Rooker) -- Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986)
from IMDB: Henry likes to kill people, in different ways each time. Henry shares an apartment with Otis. When Otis' sister comes to stay, we see both sides of Henry; the "guy-next-door" and the serial killer. Low budget movie, with some graphic murder scenes. Written by Rob Hartill
14.Frank Booth (Dennis Hopper) -- Blue Velvet (1986)
I'm glad Myerla reminded me of this character, the highlight of what was -- hands down -- the most disturbing movie I saw during my undergraduate years in college. And nobody did ape shit crazy quite like Dennis Hopper.
Blue Velvet starts with Jeffrey, an innocent young man who makes an unpleasant discovery while walking through a cornfield. When you find a severed ear on your way home, you can be pretty sure that isn't a good sign. This is the first breadcrumb on a trail leading him into Frank Booth's dark, vicious world.
15. Annie Wilkes (Kathy Bates) -- Misery (1990)
When best-selling novelist Paul Sheldon crashes his car in a
freak blizzard. he is critically injured. As luck would have it, he's rescued by former
nurse Annie Wilkes, his "number one fan", who takes him back to her
remote house in the mountains. As the title of the movie makes clear, nothing good can come of this. Kathy Bates was unforgettable in this role.
"YOU! YOU DIRTY BIRD, HOW COULD YOU!"
16. Nurse Ratched (Louise Fletcher) -- One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975)
A nurse entrusted with the responsibility of ministering to patients with severe mental illnesses, Nurse Ratched is unwaveringly calm, unbendingly dictatorial, and completely devoid of compassion. Her attack on Billy Bibbit, after he makes a brief foray into independence, was excruciating to watch. And no one will ever forget the brutal revenge exacted against resident troublemaker R.P. McMurphy.
17. Patrick Bateman (Christian Bale) -- American Psycho (2000)
From IMDB: A wealthy New York investment banking executive hides his alternate
psychopathic ego from his co-workers and friends as he escalates deeper
into his illogical, gratuitous fantasies.
Tippi mentioned this character for reasons she discussed, below, in the comments.
From IMDB: Mavis Gary, once the high school 'It Girl', now an alcoholic divorcée
who writes a soon to be canceled young adult fiction series, makes the
decision to return to her childhood home in Minnesota. There she embarks
on a plan to win back her former sweetheart, Buddy. The fact that Buddy
is now married with a baby doesn't dissuade her. Along the way, she
forms a bond with Matt Freehauf, another former classmate, who has been
left disabled by a beating he took from a bunch of jocks.
19. Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem) -- No Country for Old Men (2007)
From IMDB: In rural Texas, welder and hunter Llewelyn Moss discovers the remains of
several drug runners who have all killed each other in an exchange gone
violently wrong. Rather than report the discovery to the police, Moss
decides to simply take the two million dollars present for himself. This
puts the psychopathic killer, Anton Chigurh, on his trail as he
dispassionately murders nearly every rival, bystander and even employer
in his pursuit of his quarry and the money. As Moss desperately attempts
to keep one step ahead, the blood from this hunt begins to flow behind
him with relentlessly growing intensity as Chigurh closes in. Meanwhile,
the laconic Sherrif Ed Tom Bell blithely oversees the investigation
even as he struggles to face the sheer enormity of the crimes he is
attempting to thwart.
20. Tom Ripley (Matt Damon) -- The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999)
from IMDB: The 1950s. Manhattan lavatory attendant, Tom Ripley, borrows a Princeton
jacket to play piano at a garden party. When the wealthy father of a
recent Princeton grad chats Tom up, Tom pretends to know the son and is
soon offered $1,000 to go to Italy to convince Dickie Greenleaf to
return home. In Italy, Tom attaches himself to Dickie and to Marge,
Dickie's cultured fiancée, pretending to love jazz and harboring
homoerotic hopes as he soaks in luxury. Besides lying, Tom's talents
include impressions and forgery, so when the handsome and confident
Dickie tires of Tom, dismissing him as a bore, Tom goes to extreme
lengths to make Greenleaf's privileges his own.
Paige -- 21. The Joker (Heath Ledger) -- The Dark Knight (2008)
From IMDB -- When Batman, Gordon and Harvey Dent launch an assault on the mob, they
let the clown out of the box, the Joker, bent on turning Gotham on
itself and bringing any heroes down to his level.
"I believe whatever doesn’t kill you, simply makes you…stranger."
22. Alex DeLarge (Malcolm McDowell) -- A Clockwork Orange (1971)
From IMDB -- In future Britain, charismatic delinquent Alex DeLarge is jailed and
volunteers for an experimental aversion therapy developed by the
government in an effort to solve society's crime problem... but not all
goes to plan.
Deny it all you want, but films about psychopaths and serial killers can be quite, well, interesting. Take Graham Young for example. Played by Hugh O'Conor as a downtrodden, spiteful nerd genius, Young was the product of a dysfunctional family and a chemistry whiz. If only, as my mother says, he had used his talents for good instead of evil.
The Young Poisoner's Handbook, the 1995 debut full-length feature by British director Benjamin Ross, follows the "Teacup Killer" Young from the age of fourteen into his early adulthood. And what a fascinating character he is.
All but incapable of identifying with the suffering of others, Young was both a racist and a psychopath. Later in his life, he laments that things turned out "all wrong" for him. As a boy, he poisons his none-too-bright schoolmate Mick (Jack Deam's) ham sandwich and makes him violently ill and takes over Mick's date.
There are many good ironic and blackly comic moments in this otherwise dark and morbidly intriguing crime drama. The writer never tries too hard, which is the key. Hugh O'Conor was in a another, inferior film with dark comedy elements, Botched, which applied an over-the-top villain and manic pacing in order to achieve laughs.
Take the date between Young and Sue (Samantha Edmonds), a girl who works in the London library, for instance. The scene where they pick up his fallen books is set up like a conventional romance, with them awkwardly meeting each other's eyes and Sue initiating a date.
Then it knocks any "romantic" vibe on it's head, as Graham becomes increasingly inappropriate and morbid, soon bringing the date to an abrupt end. This isn't just teenage awkwardness. Something is just not going to the top floor.
Hugh O'Conor is quite good, although he doesn't reach the brilliance as a sociopath of Noah Taylor in Simon Rumley's Red, White,& Blue. He is manipulative, wide-eyed, and sometimes strangely likable, and I can think of only one scene where his performance halted.
I like the film's decision to meld disturbing and funny, like Tarantino, but without the constant f-bombs and gun play. Dated and oddly festive music is used, in order to provide irony and capture the flavor of 20th-century London. (The film starts out in the 1960's.)
There are obvious picks about psychotics and anti-social behavior (The Silence of the Lambs, Taxi Driver, and The Shining to name a few.) And that's all well and good, but then there are movies like these, ripe for rediscovery. For the viewing of films isn't all about watching what your friends have watched, but rather, paving the way for new choices.
As the days pass, people begin to worry about Ezra Cobb (Roberts Blossom), who lives all alone in that big Wisconsin farmhouse. After his overbearing mother (Cosette Lee) dies, Ezra doesn't know quite what to do with himself, and a local family takes them under their wing.
Deranged, a 1974 shocker starring character actor Roberts Blossom as the immeasurably crazy mama's boy Ezra Cobb, recreates the story of Ed Gein, the "Butcher of Plainfield." Norman Bates in Psycho was based on Gein, as was James "Buffalo Bill" in Thomas Harris's novel and Jonathan Demme's adaptation The Silence of the Lambs.
As you may know, Ed Gein was a Wisconsiner whose mother was a a religious fanatic who provided him with an unstable living environment, to say the least. He had a preference for wearing human skin, and "unclean" women were the target of his rage. Between the years 1954 and 1957, he murdered two women, possibly his brother, and dug up various others from the local graveyard. Ezra Cobb does much more than this.
First off, and I must say this right now, I HATED the guy who narrated the film, and would frequently appear on screen, fracturing Ezra's isolation, to keep us up to date in a flat, unconfiding voice. He had a parasitic effect on the film, and I hated him. Hated him.
On the other hand, Roberts Blossom (yes, as in plural) is quite good, although I'm not at all sure what he was doing with the frequent jutting out of his lower lip, like a petulant child. He is campy (in a good way), scary, and completely maniacal as a Freudian madman.
The film doesn't go overboard in guts and killings, and I like how the women Cobb kills are given distinct personalities and not just created for slaughter, like so many horror victims.
And it's funny. I feel kind of sick for saying this, but the black comedy runs deep, and I found myself laughing frequently, as well as being caught up in the what-ifs. I was surprised several times, and although some of the effects seemed a little, well... fake, it was quite gruesome as well.
If you have a pitch-black sense of humor and don't mind a little camp, this may be your third Gein-related pick (I bank on you having seen Psycho and The Silence of the Lambs already.) It's grisly, funny, and scary, and has a nice, subtle plot twist concerning the wrongdoings of "normal" people.
If you have seen this director's previous U.S.-available effort, The Living & the Dead, you'll know the drill- everything that can go wrong does, and his films navigate the uncomfortable grey areas of the human psyche. Being a fan of Simon Rumley's The Living & the Dead, I decided to check it out, despite similarly mixed reviews and a nagging feeling in the back of my gut.
Boy, this film is brutal. If Rumley meant to outdo the violence and nihilistic tone of his previous movie, he succeeded. All the main characters make uniformly bad and immoral decisions, and all of them suffer for it. The movie starts out with a sleazy feel, with promiscuous Erica (Amanda Fuller) getting into bed with random strangers at a nightclub.
Then she meets Nate (Noah Taylor,) who got a honorable discharge from Iraq. Although he tips her off almost immediately that he has a history of torturing and killing animals, Erica is drawn to him, mostly because he is the first man in a long time who doesn't seem to be after sex.
The film then puts a third character into the mix, Franki (Marc Senter), who is taking care of his sick mother Ellie (Sally Jackson. whose kind and sympathetic character reminds the viewer of Kate Fahy's Nancy in The Living and the Dead.) Franki has a rock band going with his various buds and hates his father.
The family is thrilled when Ellie goes into remission, but tragedy lurks just around the corner, and Erica's crime has unexpected repercussions.
Gandhi's advice, "An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind," seems to apply here.
Like Todd Field's In the Bedroom, revenge only hurts those who practice it, and no one seems to get much gratification out of it (except for one, who is basically a sociopath.) But even the sociopath is capable of compassion,, which makes the dynamic between the characters all the more puzzling.
.
I love Rumley's style, with his moral ambiguity, interesting cinematography, and tense situations. But Red, White, & Blue has scenes and gaps in storytelling that make it seem less professional. The music during the torture scenes, for instance, is discordant and not in a good way, like taking bad inspiration from Psycho.
Some scenes open awkwardly in the middle of the action, and end just as uncomfortably. An example is when Erica is almost raped by a co-worker.
The beginning shot of the scene takes place in the middle of the attack, and Nate lingers for a moment before hitting the attacker with a hammer off-screen.
The next scene shows Nate approaching and sitting next to a teary Erica. But happened to the would-be rapist? Was he killed and his body disposed of? Arrested? Taken to the hospital? He disappeared without a trace. There are several scenes like that, which leave the viewer rather confused.
Some of the dialogue is rather stiff and drawn out, and several lines sound alien from the way anyone I know speaks. The acting is good, however, with unknown actors (Amanda Fuller, Marc Senter) turning in capable performances. Noah Taylor, who you may know as the teenage version of the pianist David Helfgott in the biopic "Shine," does creepy and brutal nicely. And the last scene of violence goes above and beyond over the top, amounting to one of the most disgusting things I've seen in a long time.
Should you see it? Despite panning reviews, it's not "only an exploitation film." Although it is a bit rough at times. it has a sense of style and has Rumley's essential humanity, light amongst the darkness. Go see it if you have a strong stomach, and be sure to watch The Living and the Dead, which has a classy Gothic atmosphere and more involving, likable characters.
.jpg)
