The Killer Inside Me, directed by Michael Winterbottom and based on the novel by Jim Thompson, is the story of Lou Ford (Casey Affleck), a tightly wound small-town deputy sheriff who gets into a relationship with a local whore Joyce Lakeland (Jessica Alba). It seems that several men in town are also having affairs with her, including rich oilman Chester Conway (Ned Beatty). Ford also has a beautiful fiance Amy Stanton (Kate Hudson) who seems to need more love and attention than he is willing to give her. When Lou strikes out in a violent, misogynistic, cruel streak, killing several people, his life beings to collapse and his options close in on him.
Strange misogynistic violence and weird sex has never really done it for me. From a pure story-telling view, this film goes from pretty normal and quiet to pretty loud and wild in a split second with basically no warning (aside from knowing that any story that comes from Jim Thompson's brain should devolve into blood and gore). In the first half-hour, Lou is a pretty normal guy who does like kinky sex (asphyxiation, spanking, etc.), but seems like a pretty nice guy. I don't like how Winterbottom turns the story to violence so quickly.
I think this format celebrates Lou's horribleness by making it more shocking than it would be if we were better prepared for it, possibly by planting a few more seeds early on. He seems to fetishize Lou's sickness. There is no context or background given for why Lou would do the things he does - it's just that he's a bad seed or something. This isn't really very artistic even - it's just pure unassociated violence.
Casey Affleck, who I normally love, seems a bit dead behind his eyes here. I don't really see much motivation for his actions and he seems to coast along strangely quietly with moments of action. Clearly this is a choice between Winterbottom and Affleck, but it seems a bit shallow to me - a bit harder to decipher.
Perhaps the director's biggest achievement is that he gets two pretty solid performances out of both actresses, both of whom I think are terrible at their so-called craft. Both Hudson and Alba are very good as two confused women who try to do what they can for their mad lover, but can never communicate effectively with him. I don't know where either of them got this performance (neither one has been anywhere close to this level of execution in the past), but they deserve credit for jobs well done.
The overall look of the film is typically yellow and brown and mostly burnt out - as one would expect from a story taking place in West Texas. The cinematographer, and past Winterbottom collaborator Marcel Zyskind, does a nice job, but it's a bit tired. Yes - everything looks properly faded and old, but it's all a bit trite. Yes - it's in West Texas; yes, it's brown and faded. Bah!
The film feels like a limp story hanging on the skeleton of unexplainable ultra-violence and cruelty. There's no way of approaching this story and understanding it. Lou is sick and acts without boundaries. I don't think there's much of a deeper level to his actions other than just that he's nuts. The rest of the characters around him either are there as foils for his rage. There is too much detail in the story outside of him, and basically none of it is interesting at all.
Stars: 1.5 of 4
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