Post by Eddie Love on Nov 27, 2010 16:17:54 GMT -5
It’s been maybe 15 years since I read Jim Thompson’s THE KILLER INSIDE ME, so I can’t really speak to how wholly faithful the recent film version is to the master’s original. But watching the film certainly took me back to the blasted Texas landscapes of the novel as well as the dead and dark soul of its protagonist. This is an unnerving and powerful film, and admire it as I may, I’m not sure I’d actually recommend it without extreme caution.
The story concerns Lou Ford a West Texas lawman who is tasked with drumming out of town the prostitute who’s taken up shop on the outskirts of Central City. Failing to do this, he instead embarks on a sadomasochistic sexual relationship with the woman and starts working both sides of a blackmail scheme directed at the local rich kid besotted with her. However, Ford’s plans go awry and the machinations with which he must keep himself out of jail, lead to increasingly deadly results.
The director Michael Winterbottem has fashioned a production that is truly magnificent. I have no idea what the budget for this picture was, but it’s effortless evocation of time and place is immaculate. Things look shiny and new, you don’t get that weathered look to everything. There are noir-ish night scenes but, by and large, the picture is bright and sun-drenched. He tells Thompson’s story straight, without commenting on its implications. And the filmmaking is simply superb throughout, cleanly shot and crispy edited.
There isn’t a weak performance in the film. Casey Affleck’s baby-faced take on Ford is completely riveting, though I must say some of his lines were lost to me as he does mumble a bit. But he captures perfectly the standard Thompson unreliable narrator struggling with the host of antagonist swirling around him. Elsewhere, I wouldn’t single out any other members of the supporting cast, as they are all perfect. Even Kate Hudson, who I’m not a fan of, is very good as Ford’s sweetheart.
The film seems to capture the flavor of the original and the overall story line of the novel, although the apocalyptic conflagration at the end doesn’t ring a bell. Also, when we read about Ford’s crimes the troubling nature of the physical evidence isn’t likely to bug us the way it does when we see it played out here. The other Texas lawmen don’t need to have the resources of today’s CSI labs to immediately suspect that something is amiss.
Where the picture would seem to go deeper is in the sexual areas of Ford’s relationship with the women in his life and the nature of their encounters and their depiction is certain to shock if not appall many. There are three prominent female characters and each of them is shown as a sexual masochist who enjoys the physical assaults they are subject to. It’s very dicey territory and it’s where any recommendation of this film becomes seriously problematic. Additionally, watching this you are witness to two of the most sickening recreations of violent crimes against women I have ever seen in a film. I think it plays into the psychosis of the protagonist and illustrates the piteous dynamic at work in these types of abusive relationships, but I was never entirely sold on their necessity, no matter how effective the filmmaking is. These scenes are made more troubling by the undeniable erotic allure of the actresses playing them out, principally Jessica Alba as the prostitute. I don’t know. This film disturbed and haunted me, as it should, but I certainly wouldn’t begrudge anyone who stopped watching at some mid-point.
The other problem I had with this film is the effective, but fitful employment of Thompson’s narration. At times we’re observing Ford more than it feels like we’re in his head, and this puts us at a remove towards the end.
While I was stunned by the power and quality of this film, it is one to avoid if you’re faint of heart. There is truly great moviemaking on display, but it’s in service of the realization of material the literary genius who devised it was too circumspect to relate in this fashion. What was lurid pulp is now all-too graphic, and while it's powerfully realized it's also off-putting.
You've been warned.