Review: Killer Joe (2012)

Killer Joe (2012) Dir. William Friedkin
Starring: Matthew McConaughey, Juno Temple, Emile Hirsch

Killer Joe is one of the best things I've seen at the cinema this year. It's a trailer park noir thriller with threads of black comedy and a strong lashing of Southern Gothic in the vein of The Night of The Hunter. Mitchum's influence on McConaughey's mannerisms seems mentionable, but all of the other elements are there, too: creaking poverty, decay, the dysfunctional (and possibly incestuous) family unit, terrible violence. In the heart of Texas, the bottom line is cash for everyone involved, and it will be gained at any costs, be it through murder, extortion, or betrayal of one's nearest and dearest. A young drug-dealer played by Emile Hirsch gets into debt with some dangerous people, and hires a hitman, McConaughey's titular Killer Joe, to dispose of his mother and cash in on her life insurance policy. Juno Temple, as Hirsch's younger sister, maintains just the right blend of blushingly virginal sensuality and worryingly child-like vulnerability; she's the perfect target for Joe's decision to take on a 'retainer'; doll-like, strange and sweet, like a sparrow crushed in an iron grip. As Joe, McConaughey impressively plays against type with vehemence and flair; his honey-dripping Texan accent and polished, Southern gentleman's charm mask a cold and brutal nature. The film is deeply unsettling and unpleasant, from its mere implications to its gratuitous excesses, though not without a few darkly hilarious moments wedged in between. From its opening, when Gina Gershon opens the door to her stepson in a teeth-grittingly uncomfortable state of undress, to its positively ugly and abrupt ending, it sears with tension, sleaze, and noirish brilliance.

God Bless America (2012)

God Bless America, (2011) Dir. Bobcat Goldthwait
Starring: Joel Murray, Tara Lynne Barr

To begin with, I'm not entirely sure how Bobcat Goldthwait is allowed to get away with making movies at all, but I'm awfully happy he manages to sneak 'em by, because this film is as polemical as they come. It certainly isn't for everybody - a large proportion of audiences will find it grossly offensive and it has the sensibility to make people very uncomfortable, indeed. Its plot is simple: a fed-up middle-aged man has grown tired of America's vulgar, selfish, shallow culture and decides to fight back against the overwhelming stupidity the only way he knows how; with a gun. He is joined by a cynical teenage girl, classmate to the Super Sweet 16 reality TV star who becomes his first victim. It's simple, overblown, and increasingly ridiculous, B-movie style. It's certainly not perfect; it's a super-violent heavy-handed revenge fantasy, and doesn't so much contain characters as it does two vessels for Goldthwait's cranky rants against right-wing and middle America. Peter Bradshaw, veteran Guardian film critic, disagrees with me, and I see why; cinematically speaking, God Bless America does not tick very many marks. It has no particular style or flair. In Bradshaw's view, summarily, the film is essentially a mediocre one-trick pony with a simplistic message.

I can't entirely argue with that, but oddly, I feel the film works mainly through the simplicity of its shock factor; its unfocused, slightly immature, sloppy rage against all that is wrong with America shouldn't work, but it is felt with such clarity that it sort of does. Goldthwait's characters are preaching to the converted, as the saying goes. It's essentially a left-wing spin on a traditionally right-wing concept; the violent vigilante film. It works just as well on the same primal basis; sometimes, striking out against those we passionately disagree with is wonderfully cathartic. This reaction is, of course, rather anti-liberal; but nothing is there to suggest that our main character, Frank, is particularly liberal in his stance. After all, he certainly exercises his 2nd Amendment rights quite happily. There isn't anything ideal about this film, but its existence, and rarity - its balls, to speak plainly - are rather commendable. It's not terribly well-executed, but it's funny, punchy, and hits where it hurts. It feels like a passionate teenager without any sense of measured political discourse made an angry student film, and maybe Goldthwait should know better, but what comes out is a sort of guilty pleasure that feels really, really good.