Killer Joe

The French Connection is one of my favourite films of all time so I’ll always have a soft spot for William Friedkin. However, much like Sven-Goran Erikssons’s managerial career, he appears to have been dining out on a couple of decent results for life, whereas a closer inspection of the back catalogue reveals mostly disappointing results. Hopes have been raised with Killer Joe, though. Friedkin’s got himself some killer source material and, following his rave reviews for The Lincoln Lawyer, a re-born star in the shape of Matthew McConaughey. A return to past glories then? Unfortunately, not. However, this is still pretty good, but it’s just that you feel it could have been so much better. When Texan drug dealer Chris (Emile Hirsch) finds himself in the hole to his violent supplier he comes up with a scheme to murder his mother in order to collect the insurance money. Teaming up with his Dad (played by a comically laid back Thomas Haden Church) they hire Joe Cooper (McConaughey), a police detective who also happens to have a side line in contract killing. I won’t spoil it by saying what happens next, but as this is an example of Southern Gothic fiction I’ll let the National Endowment for the Arts commission explain what that means: “Common themes in Southern Gothic literature include deeply flawed, disturbing or disorienting characters, decayed or derelict settings, grotesque situations, and other sinister events relating to or coming from poverty, alienation, racism, crime, and violence”. So throw the above plot into this mix and you have a pretty good description of the film, which is adapted from Tracy Letts’ play of the same name and he himself writes the screenplay here. There’s no doubt the Pulitzer Prize winning author knows his stuff and the tale he weaves is twisty enough to keep you guessing about how it’ll all go down in the end. Obviously, it’ll go wrong (modern day it may be, but this is still a noir), but just how wrong and how it happens is unravelled scene by scene. Acting wise its all pretty good with Gina Gershon as Smith’s whitest of white trash step mum giving an outstanding performance. Sadly, McConaughey comes across as the weak link, though it’s more to do with his character having so many different personalities it’s hard to take him seriously as he randomly shifts from slime ball to cold hearted killer to nut job. You’ll probably be aware by now of the infamous scene involving a chicken drumstick. Some people have taken this as a moment of purest black comedy, but even though I found it pretty distasteful, the problem for me is more that it makes the signature scene in the film lose all credibility. In respect of that this earns its 18 certificate in spectacular fashion as it’s chock full of brutal and graphic violence, drugs, alcohol, sex and bad language. However, Friedkin would have been better to cut back on these excesses and concentrate more on the storyline as opposed to the shock tactics. To sum up, this comes across as a Coen Brothers film on a bucketful of steroids. To its detriment it’s just too out there.

The OC Film Sting Final Verdict
Pretty grim stuff, but Gershon’s great performance and a twisty script just about make up for the fact that you may never be able to eat friend chicken ever again. Rating: 6/10.