The cuddle inside me. Gone.
Do not see this film juiced up on caffiene. Winterbottom has direct a fantastically tense and enveloping small town horror with The killer inside me and, after long machiatto and a coffee, I was on edge. Performances are fantastic (except Bill Pullman) with Casey Affleck onece again portraying a man messed up with precision and utter conviction. It’s always good to see Elias Kotias, one of cinemas most underrated actors who possibly screwed himself with this commercially successful but artistically bereft venture
Kate hudson has redeemed herself after these celluloid blights:
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Well, partially redeemed.
The film has the feel of the Coen brothers at their best. Like their films, it utilises an intense internal monologue by a man swept by rapidly escalating force, each effort at self-correction only digging him deeper. This is not to say the killer inside me is derivative. Michael winterbottom is a protean talent in his own right, having directed sone of the best films of the last 15 years (Wonderland is a personal favourite of mine).
One area where this film particularly stands out is the violence. By now it’s reasonably common knowledge that Killer contains some horrific scenes. Despite my awareness of what was coming, I was still unprepared and shocked by the intensity of what is shown, unnecessarily in my opinion, on screen. Could have been the coffee. While the scenes do stay with you and are effective, Winterbottom could have done just as much with less.
Overall, this is pretty unpleasant, but memorable cinema which stays true to its pulp roots (it’s adapted from a book by a bloke called Jim Thompson). Definitely worth a watch, though not a date movie. Not a break up movie either. Just for the happily single. Our entrenched couples. etc.
***1/2
Good NYT feature here
