In a deprived, white trash nightmare area of Texas, populated by repugnantly selfish characters with no morality, William Friedkin’s Killer Joe is a seriously unpleasant film. The script is likely inspired to some degree by early Tarantino films, with its fixation on violence and darkly humorous dialogue, yet it’s far more unusual. It’s a film of the twenty first century; money is what motivates the characters and their pursuit of that leads to murder, statutory rape and prostitution of family. Don’t let this put you off, though, because Killer Joe is the best film you’re not going to go and see this year.
The film is mainly concerned with its characters and how they use each other for their own ends. The brother uses his sister to pay off a hitman’s debt, the mother initiates an inheritance scam for her husband’s ex‐wife’s murder and the hit man starts a relationship with the innocent 12‐year‐old daughter. People are used as commodities, with Dottie, the daughter, being ‘retained’ in exchange for murder. One could even argue that the film’s gruesome ending represents the feminist empowerment of a woman repeatedly taken advantage of by her male acquaintances. Its portrayal of the strong woman is the exact antithesis of a film like The Kids are Alright, the insincere Hollywood bubble gum from 2010.
Matthew McConaughey has never gained much respect for his roles in the past, normally playing tough yet sensitive guys in glossy, forgettable rom-coms. His role as Killer Joe though, gives the impression that he is a wonderful actor who is finally breaking the chains of mediocrity that had been tightened around his beautifully toned wrists. His sordid, breathy voice works extremely well and his bellows of command are genuinely unsettling. There is a scene involving a piece of chicken, which is clearly meant to be the most memorable scene (it is used crassly on the posters), and it is a great portrayal of an insane fetishist giving justice the greasy way. However, to describe Killer Joe as “that film with the chicken leg” does it a great disservice, akin to calling The Godfather “that film with the horse’s head.” McConaughey is a perfect centre point to a startlingly original film that unwittingly reminds us how bland most Hollywood films have become in comparison.
Perhaps the cynicism of the plot is to blame for its lack of success at the Box Office. Is this what audience’s have become? Is it because the film received the dreaded NC17 rating in America? Either way, it’s damning that such a good film has been received so coldly at the box office. It was shot in 2010 and was treated disdainfully by the executives, who kept pushing it further and further back for a release date and it was only last week that it premiered at the Edinburgh film festival for its UK release. The brazen, unashamed nature of the violence, shot with unflinching close ups; to images designed to make the audience gasp and flinch is something to be respected. The filmmakers, who are clearly not in the business for money but for art and originality, wear the NC17 rating proudly, refusing to cut anything from the original for the British release. William Friedkin did similar with The Exorcist in 1973, which is one of the most successful R rated films of all time. It’s just a shame that modern audiences aren’t as willing to try something different from the boring production line of genre staples.
Yet violence alone obviously doesn’t make a film great. This film does everything well. The characters are perfectly crafted and every move they make fits their character while being surprising and absorbing. It has an unsettling mood of dread and panic, which very few films have successfully achieved. The acting is uniformly excellent, with Emile Hirsch and McConaughey particularly impressive. Friedkin demonstrates that he remains a fine director. He not only disregards Hollywood’s current blandness but shoves its greasy, poultry goodness down the throats of an audience not ready to consume this neo‐noir masterpiece. Yet.