Darkness comes in many flavors. If you’ve heard anything about Michael Winterbottom’s “The Killer Inside Me,” it’s inevitable that you’ve read at least something about its supposed darkness and brutal violence. The Casey Affleck starring neonoir certainly does deliver in darkness of several types as well as many other moods. While Winterbottom’s ‘Killer’ can be rough around the edges at times, he has made a film that, like it or not, will certainly stick with you for days after you see it.
Affleck stars as deputy sheriff Lou Ford (looking amusingly similar to David Byrne in “True Stories,” ten gallon hat and all) of a small west Texas town in the 1950s, adopting an even higher, creepier vocal intonation than his role as Robert Ford in “The Assassination of Jesse James By The Coward Robert Ford.” ‘Killer’ begins with his narration and is sprinkled throughout, immediately letting the audience know that we’ll almost exclusively be receiving the point of view of his twisted character. Ford’s first act as a lawman is a simple mission of shutting down prostitute Joyce Lakeland’s (Jessica Alba) small-time operation out of her desertside home. Lakeland is not too receptive to Ford’s declamation, and incites Ford to give her a bit of a roughing up. Ford oddly spanks her and his violent gestures quickly turn into a perverted sexual encounter. From here, Ford starts up a love affair on the side with Joyce, distracting him from his girlfriend Amy Stanton (Kate Hudson).
Ford soon learns from Sheriff Bob Maples (Tom Bower) details regarding the death of his brother five years ago involving local business magnate Chester Conway (Ned Beatty) and his younger brother Elmer (Jay R. Ferguson). Secretly plotting revenge on the brothers for what may or may not have actually happened, Ford sets up a blackmail scheme between Elmer and Joyce, which Ford of course has an unannounced hand in at Joyce’s home. This scene, occurring early in the film, is the first of two particular instances of the brutal violence in ‘Killer.’ Ford rather nonchalantly beats Joyce’s face senselessly until it is almost unrecognizable. The scene is gritty and direct, abandoning any cinematic trickery (barring an almost Looney Toons-esque sound effect used for Ford’s punches) for a more direct experience. Botching a few details around the scene of the crime, this sets into motion Ford’s main conflict in evading fellow police questioning as a suspect for the rest of the film’s story.
The film’s violence (especially towards women), nowhere near as graphic as early comparisons to Lars Von Trier’s “Antichrist” might suggest, is unsettling but never overdramaticized to the point of calling too much attention to itself. Instead, the film’s darkness is derived from a rather jumpy tone, alternating between a frantic schizophrenia and an almost Lynchian sense of foreboding. The film’s dual nature owes as much to Winterbottom’s direction as it does to Melissa Parmenter’s score and accompanying soundtrack. Parmenter draws equally from Angelo Badalamenti’s scores for David Lynch as well as Carter Burwell’s Coen brothers scores, perhaps alluding to a synthesis of style that Winterbottom may have sought for the film. The dark orchestral score can also switch on moment’s notice to the Texas swing and blues soundtrack within any given scene, turning the most serious of moments into surreal, humorous ones.
Though some may criticize the film as being tonally confused, ‘Killer”s scattered feeling is mandated by Affleck’s portrayal as Ford. The character is a serial killer of a particular sort – he only kills when necessary, viewing murder as the easiest and most salient solution to any problem. We are never meant to sympathize with the demented misogynist Ford, as much of an anti-hero as he is. The character is treated as a vehicle for a straight up study on the mind of a killer, and in this the film finds its greatest strength. Affleck acts with a unique demeanor that is always unsettling and never uninteresting. And in the film’s incendiary climax, Winterbottom presents a scene with a surreal outlandish quality not found elsewhere in the film. We are forced to retrospectively question the actuality of certain events as narrated (implicitly or explicitly) by Ford, certainly helping the film lend itself to repeat viewings.
Winterbottom never truly seems concerned with with the nitty gritty plot details of ‘Killer’, despite spending a good amount of screen time detailing their development. The various deals of blackmail and conflicting city officials never feel important to the overall goal of the film and thus pale in comparison to the character bits concerning Ford that surround them. As a result, an otherwise able supporting cast are never really given a chance to shine, playing a sort of ragtag bunch of noir types. Bill Pullman gives one of the film’s more rowdy, memorable supporting performances, playing a boisterous criminal attorney that causes quite a hootenanny in retrieving an institutionalized Ford from a hospital.
‘The Killer Inside Me’ will inevitably be seen, and maybe even remembered, for its controversial violence against women. The film is far too intriguing despite its faults and deserves to be at least be seen by anyone in desire of an insanity-tinged neonoir. While ‘Killer’ may not necessarily have been our favorite film we saw at this year’s IFFBoston, it was certainly the most memorable and the one we want to see again. [B+]
