The Killer Inside Me
Jim
Thompson’s 1952 novel The Killer Inside Me remains one of the
most enduring, and confronting, works of American crime fiction. The
noir staple has been eyed by Hollywood directors for several
generations, with the likes of Marilyn Monroe and Marlon Brando touted
at various points for starring roles. Burt Kennedy produced a fairly
middling film version in 1976, Quentin Tarantino’s name was attached to
a rumoured present-day adaptation for several years and talented Aussie
auteur Andrew Dominic (Chopper, The Assassination of Jesse
James) went as far as penning a screenplay, though never saw the
project through to completion.
The
task of directing eventually fell to Michael Winterbottom (Wonderland,
A Mighty Heart), and his efforts ensure this important novel is
finally given the credible onscreen treatment it deserves. His 2010
film version sees Casey Affleck starring as sociopathic protagonist Lou
Ford, a 29 year old deputy Sherriff in a Texan dustbowl called Central
City. Outwardly a paragon of small town virtue, Ford’s laconic
demeanour and endless cornball platitudes hide a terrifying interior
world.
Ford, it emerges, abused a young girl as a teen, a crime for which his
older foster brother Mike took the blame in order to spare Lou a prison
term. ‘The sickness,’ as he calls it, abated over the years, however it
comes flooding back when Lou crosses paths with local prostitute Joyce
Lakeland (Jessica Alba, in something of a departure). An inexorable
sadomasochistic affair develops between the two, unbeknownst to Ford’s
longsuffering girlfriend Amy (Kate Hudson), and as the story progresses
and Lou’s unspeakable tendencies assume a stranglehold over his
behaviour, his life descends into a morass of appalling violence.
Despite the not inconsiderable talents of Winterbottom The Killer
Inside Me perhaps works better as a novel. Its stark depiction of
Ford’s duality and the inner workings of his deranged mind are truly
sinister on the page, and the sheer ugliness of his many abhorrent acts
ensure that in spite of the brilliant, beautiful cinematography the film
remains, like its central character, somewhat repugnant. The
ever-underrated Affleck brilliantly embodies Ford’s double life, an
ensemble cast which includes the indefatigable Ned Beatty and Tom Bower
(Crazy Heart) put in universally nuanced performances and the
film is undoubtedly powerful. The brutal violence may cause some
viewers to think twice, however.
Audio & Video
No
problems with picture quality; the letterboxed transfer is crisp and
faultless. The DD 5.1 surround audio is likewise impeccable and the
soundtrack is excellent, with plenty of 1950s staples like Little Willie
John’s ‘Fever’ sitting nicely alongside Melissa Parmenter’s thoughtful,
subtly potent score.
Special Features
Interviews with Affleck, Alba and Hudson in which they discuss their
characters and their motivations, as actors are wont to do, and a fairly
insipid 25-minute behind the scenes documentary. |