Part way through Michael Winterbottom’s new film “The Killer Inside Me”, a female character declares “I love you” as deranged sheriff Lou Ford, played by Casey Affleck, beats in her face with his bare hands for five gruelling minutes. It was at this point that several female journalists behind me promptly gathered their coats and left.
Not yet released in the UK, the film already caused quite a stir on the festival circuit last year with its graphic depictions of violence towards women.
I however kind of like Michael Winterbottom. As a director, he is workmanlike, rolling up his sleeves to take on an erratic array of film challenges from creating more myths about the Mancunian music scene than is probably necessary in “24 Hour Party People” to irritating conservatives the world over with the sexually explicit “9 Songs”.
Truth be told, I hadn’t read the book on which “Killer” is based: a 50s noir classic by Jim Thompson, it follows a local sheriff, played by Affleck, and his intense sexual relationship with the town’s prostitute (Jessica Alba). Along the way, the sociopathic Ford becomes embroiled in a murderous plot.
American psycho
It is a fascinating, horrible performance from Affleck, all clenched teeth and thousand yard stares. There have understandably been comparisons made between this character and another State Side Psycho—but although his unreliable narration does nod towards Patrick Bateman, Ford is not quite as likeable as Christian Bale’s preened 80s banker. As an viewer it is harder to laugh at Affleck’s murderous ways and harder to root for the pulp protagonist as he evades not only his fellow policeman, but also the overpowering town boss.
As for the sex, surprisingly for all the sadomasochistic huffing and puffing, the on-screen coitus is actually fairly tame. It’s credit to Winterbottom therefore that it still feels authentic. But the violence is very, very real. The film contains probably the most graphically violent scenes I’ve watched outside of any ‘torture porn’ (that’s films like “Hostel” for the uninitiated. I’m not into snuff films or anything. Honest) and the most disturbing since Gasper Noe’s “Irreversible”. It makes the “Antichrist”s of yesteryear look laughably unrealistic.
I had to wonder though whether Winterbottom should have taken a leaf out of fellow director Mary (“American Psycho”) Harron’s book and implied more of the violence, or whether this would have diminished any of the power of the film. Film noir is not known for its well-drawn female characters, more often than not they’re flesh out rather than fleshed out, so it is even more troubling when the aggression depicted towards them is so forceful. Winterbottom however seems loath to abandon the filmmakers’ maxim ‘show don’t tell’ for better or worse.
But in the end, it’s Affleck’s brilliantly unhinged performance as lawman Lou Ford that leaves the greatest impression. We’re unable to look away when he’s on screen, quietly unravelling as a character while the rest of the cast tighten the screws around him.
Is the film misogynistic? Does having a misogynistic character act ambivalently throughout a film make the atmosphere of the film itself hateful towards women? I dunno. Probably. Maybe just close your eyes during the bloodletting and wait until Bill Pullman pops up doing an incredibly daft Texan accent. The question I had on my mind on leaving the auditorium was that surely Pullman is well deserved of some sort of John Travolta/Bill Murray-esque film revival by now? Though I don’t imagine this is quite the poser Winterbottom wanted to leave us with.
The Killer Inside Me is released on June 4th.