Wednesday, 6 February 2013

Similar films


Zodiac


"Zodiac" may frustrate viewers who come to David Fincher's latest film expecting a traditional serial killer thriller. The film begins with a couple of hair-raising and rather brutal recreations of murders carried out by the mysterious killer who terrorized the San Francisco Bay area in the late 1960s and early 1970s. These early scenes are shocking and, compared to the rest of the film, disorienting, because they offer the only time that we come close to seeing events from the killer's perspective. As the film progresses, the Zodiac killer himself fades into the background, and the movie turns into a meticulous and engrossing document of the investigation to track him down, an investigation that includes countless blind alleys and false clues and which to this day has not reached a conclusion. I would be more prone to label the somewhat rambling screenplay as sloppy storytelling if I did not feel that Fincher tells the story exactly as he wants to. The elusive narrative works, because the film is about an elusive villain.

Jake Gyllenhaal plays Robert Graysmith, a cartoonist working for the "San Francisco Chronicle" at the time the Zodiac killer began his gruesome work. He becomes fascinated by the case, and takes it on as a sort of morbid personal hobby long after the police department has given it up as a lost cause. Graysmith eventually wrote the book on which this film is based, and according to his accounts, he discovered enough evidence about one of the suspects in the case to put the police back on his trail years after he'd been cleared for lack of evidence. Other characters come and go. Robert Downey, Jr. does characteristically terrific work as a reporter at the "Chronicle" who grabs his own portion of notoriety through his involvement in the case. Mark Ruffalo and Anthony Edwards play the two detectives in charge of the investigation. Chloe Sevigny plays Gyllenhaal's put-upon wife, who gradually loses her husband to his obsession. All of the actors deliver thrilling performances, many of them against the odds. Since this isn't a character driven movie, many of the characters remain undeveloped, but not, for once, to the detriment of the film. This story isn't about the people involved, but rather about their role in the Zodiac saga; once they've served their purpose, Fincher dispenses with them. Ironically, a film that clocks in at nearly 3 hours exhibits a great deal of narrative economy.

Parts of "Zodiac" are intensely creepy. Fincher effectively uses the rainy San Francisco atmosphere to its maximum potential, and the grimy browns and grays of the production design call to mind Fincher's other well-known films, like "Seven" and "Fight Club." But "Zodiac" is much more grown up than those films, and for an audience to enjoy it, it has to have an attention span. Long scenes are given to analyzing handwriting samples, recreating the scenes of murders, digging through newspaper clippings and files. You can tell that Fincher is fascinated by police work in the pre-CSI era, when fax machines were still a novel invention. He delves into the investigative process with a nearly fetishistic attention to detail, but he makes all of it endlessly mesmerizing. He does his best to bring everything to some sort of conclusion, but the real-life end to the story makes a complete conclusion impossible. This film is more about the journey than the destination, and what a journey it is.

 

Henry: Portrait Of A Serial Killer (Official Trailer)


I really wish that there were more movies like "Henry" out there. Most people still don't realize just HOW controversial this film was when it was made. The MPAA wouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole. McNaughton fought for 4 years to get an R rating, but no dice. And since he didn't want the X, and there was no NC-17 rating at the time, it was finally released, with no rating, in 1990. And why? I've seen films with MORE violence in them...Romero's "Day of the Dead" leaps to mind. But it's not the violence in this film that makes it so disturbing. It's the way the material is handled. And this is what the film's detractors obviously can't appreciate.

"Henry" doesn't bother with any type of morality...it neither glorifies nor denounces Henry's actions. It simply observes. It places those actions before us and says "there it is...you deal with it...you sort it out." People who don't like this film often say that there's "no character development...no discernible plot line...etc., etc." Those people should stop throwing around film school terms. This is one movie that doesn't present events in a "movie reality"...it shows us things as they are in the real world. Character development means showing you enough of the characters in 90-120 minutes to make you feel as if you've known them forever. How often do you spend 90 minutes with a real person and know that much about them...or feel that you can seriously identify with them? It's just a conceit of film-making. Same with plot lines. Does life have a plot line? Not at all. Life is an endless succession of things happening. Some seem important and/or entertaining...some don't. "Henry," in its attempt to realistically portray the life of a serial killer, does not need a plot line...in fact, it benefits from having only a very loose plot line. Much like a homicidal version of "The Catcher in the Rye," this film seems much like a lot of things that happened, as opposed to a carefully constructed fictitious story...which make it seems all the more real...and all the more disturbing.

"Henry" is disturbing on many levels. Firstly, it feels very real. Too real, perhaps. Nothing is slicked up...nothing seems counterfeit or contrived. The entire thing is so utterly plausible that it chills you to the bone. Secondly, the complete lack of police involvement is equally disturbing. The only time you see a police car in this film, it's driving past in the background as Henry is cruising the streets. It drives past...and that's it. And Henry isn't scared...nor is he even aware, apparently. He has nothing to hide. He knows the police won't connect his crimes to one another...and they certainly won't connect them to him. So what has he to fear?

And finally, the setting of Chicago makes the film more disturbing for me, as I'm somewhat familiar with that city and can spot some locales in the film that I recognize. In fact, a friend of mine who lives in Chicago told me that the first time he watched "Henry," he and a friend rented it and sat down in his friend's apartment to watch it. It was about halfway through that they realized that the apartment they were sitting in was the same one used as Henry's apartment in the film. All I can say is...I'd never use that bath tub again.

All in all, I truly wish that more directors had the guts to make films like "Henry." Honestly, I can't think of one film that's comparable. There simply aren't any films out there that are anything like this. This is truly one of the most disturbing films I've ever seen. After seeing "Happiness," I guess that "Henry" probably got knocked down to Number Two on that list. But "Second Most Disturbing Film Of All-Time" is still a damn fine achievement, in my opinion.

If you want to see an accurate and appallingly realistic portrayal of what the life of a serial killer must be like, definitely give "Henry" a viewing. Make up your own mind from there.

Oh, and a final note...one reviewer stated concretely that his biggest problem with the film was that "serial killers work alone." This is, of course, not always the case. The real life counterparts to Henry and Otis (Henry Lee Lucas and Ottis Toole) DID kill together, as did Bianchi and Buono, the infamous Hillside Stranglers. Those are not the only such instances...but they're certainly the best-known. Therefore, the overly broad generalization that serial killers "work alone" is no real attack on the realism of this film.

 

 

 

 

Citizen X


Citizen X tells the story of Andrei Chikatilo, The Ripper of Rostov, who killed 52 people in 8 years time, mainly women and children. It shows how the investigation was obstructed by Soviet bureaucracy, how hard it was to investigate the crimes. It does the job in such a brilliant way that it will leave no-one untouched. In the beginning it's perhaps a little bit slow of pace, but it really grabs you as the story unfolds. I can only say that, next to "The Silence of the Lambs", this is by far the best movie about a serial killer I've ever seen.

It is very hard to say which actor's performance stands out above the rest in this movie. Stephen Rea is really brilliant as the inexperienced forensic expert who is put in charge of the investigation. Donald Sutherland's performance as his cynical superior, and the only person in the Russian government willing to help him, is as outstanding as Rea's. And what to say about Jeffrey DuMann, playing the serial killer? DuMann brilliantly created a character who inspires empathy rather than hatred. Yes, he is a monster, but he is also a sad figure, oppressed and ridiculed by his wife, his boss, his co-workers... He is tortured, ashamed, as well as extremely vicious.

I can only recommend this movie to everybody who's interested in a well-made docu-drama, where the actors are still more important than the special effects. It deserves at least a 9/10, perhaps even more if you ask me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Deliberate Stranger


Considerably above average for a TV made-for. There may be factual changes in the story as shown here but, to someone not familiar with the details of Bundy's career, they can't be too damaging. And the film sort of stands by itself as a craftsmanlike piece of work on the part of just about everyone concerned with it. Marvin Chomsky directed with economy and efficiency, except perhaps for a bit too much complaining and self-pity on the part of police officers. He was faced with a problem, namely that viewers already knew how the story "came out," and has at least made an attempt at heightening the suspense by showing only Bundy's shoes plodding along the dark streets before each murder, until his last awful blood feast, when we see his face twisted with passion. Mark Harmon, who elsewhere gives performances that an especially handsome mannequin could turn in, is surprisingly good. He has that phony self-revealing charm, that fleeting smile, that serves as a mask of sanity. He also gives a bang-on definition of "sociopath" to Dick Larson on the other side of the prison bars. There is some disagreement among knowledgeable visitors to the courtroom when in the course of defending himself Bundy begins to choke up with emotion. "What a performance," mutters one of the cops. "Or maybe," says Larson, "he really is feeling the suffering himself." Well, Dick -- sorry, but the cop was right. It isn't that sociopaths (or anti-social personality disorder, unsocialized type, as they're now called) don't feel their own suffering; it's just that it's fleeting. (There is a pattern that appears in responses to the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory that is known to clinicians as "the caught psychopath" pattern.) There's a lot of depression, yes, but it disappears quickly because sociopaths are so adaptable, so good at exploiting their environments. Bundy is shown constantly cadging butts from friendly visitors. A good sociopath would care much more about the cigarettes than the affection they're getting. Serial killers (the term didn't really exist until about the time Bundy appeared on the scene) are intrinsically fascinating because there is no part of most of us that can begin to understand their motives. Most homicides take place between friends and relatives. We murder them because they are in a position to hurt us. We value their opinions of us. But the ghastly murder of one stranger after another leaves us stunned. We can't identify ourselves with the killer and we are in awe of someone who has so abused the ritual codes of the communities we draw our shared identities from. It's like mother-son incest. The pop stuff about Bundy going to Florida because he wanted to be caught and punished is a lot of bunkum. And I always wonder, when I read books or see movies about guys like this, how they get around the way they do? Let's see. Bundy squeezes out of his cell somewhere in the mountains of Colorado. There is a glimpse of him striding through O'Hare in Chicago. Then he turns up in Talahassee, Florida. He escaped with nothing more than the clothes on his back. How did he get from Colorado to Florida in the total absence of material resources? How could he buy a new wardrobe? How could he plunk down a month's rent on a room, plus one month's deposit? A footnote: When Lisa Birnbach was doing interviews for her College Book in the early 1980s, virtually none of the students at FSU, including members of the sorority that the victims had belonged to, knew who Ted Bundy was. Sic transit gloria Bundi.

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