Ryan McNeil
The character of Killer Joe always stands out. In a world that is largely populated with trashy, dressed-down yokels, he steps into each scene well-groomed, in crisp shirt under an expensive coat and hat. Beyond just the clothes, he stands out as a man who measures his words, and exudes professionalism, confidence, and quiet violence.
By standing out in this way, he commands our attention and respect, and calls attention away from his actions – many of which are deplorable.
Chris Smith (Emile Hirsch) is in debt. He owes some pretty bad men $6,00o and they are looking to collect. As a last-ditch effort, he approaches his father Ansel (Thomas Haden Church). Ansel lives in a trailer with his wife Sharla (Gina Gershon) and Chris’ sister Dottie (Juno Temple). When Chirs comes to him on a stormy night, he comes with a distasteful plan: To get the money he needs, he’ll need to kill his mother, Ansel’s first wife Adele.
Taking care of this dastardly deed, Chris wants to turn to “Killer Joe” Cooper (Matthew McConoughey). Killer Joe is a police detective, who also happens to be a contract killer. Chris and Ansel approach Killer Joe with the offer of $25,000 if he kills Adele.
One small problem: The money for Joe’s fee would be coming from Adele’s life insurance policy (a policy listing Dottie as the sole beneficiary), meaning Killer Joe would need to take the job on spec and get paid when they cash in after Adele’s death. Understandably, this does not suit Joe one bit.
However, after meeting Dottie and developing a fast fondness for her innocent exuberance, Joe turns to his would-be employers and says “Of course, we haven’t discussed the option of a retainer”
KILLER JOE is a greasy, grimy, schlocky-as-hell piece of Hick Noir.
To be crystal clear, this film will not be for everybody. It is a violent, lewd piece of Hicksploitation that makes no apologies for its demeanour. In many ways, the film is just like Sharla – opening the front door half-dressed without a sliver of shame about it. It’s a film that involves two dinner scenes: one of tuna casserole, the other of fried chicken. It happily sets both down in front of us and tells us to dig in, knowing how little nutrition we are about to consume.
And ya know what? That’s fine. One craves such things sometimes.
Much of the film rests on the shoulders of two actors. The first of the two is Matthew McConoughey, who is on an incredible run on he screen in 2012. He brings a stone-cold quality to Joe Cooper, a sense that the man is all-business, even when surrounded by absolute amateurs. Not only does he draw us in when he is discussion contractual particulars, but he wraps our attention when the story turns to his moments with Dottie. This is actually a pretty neat trick, since anything less than a bullseye in these moments would make the scenes feel pretty gross. Yet somehow, he is able to add a stripe of innocent fascination and caring to the deal between Joe and the Smith family. He makes it just palatable enough to swallow…giving the wildly inappropriate situation a dose of sincerity.
The second actor carrying the brunt of the film is Juno Temple. As Dottie, she’s given a task that’s unenviable: portray a young girls as spritely and innocent, without crossing over into Lolita-esque places. She manages to do just that, giving Dottie a pure quality that underscores her allure. Her portrayal of Dottie’s psychological damage is muted, as too is her naivety. Temple understands that she is the rusty lynchpin holding this whole rickety trailer together, and hits her mark perfectly. Had she played the part too ‘sex-kitten’, we wouldn’t have believed in her innocence. Had she played the part too demure, we would have been repulsed by Joe’s relationship with her. Temple finds the sweet-spot between the two, and does wonderful things with the part.
What’s great about these two actors nailing these two parts, is that there are precious few scenes that don’t involve one or the other. What’s more, as the whole plot begins to unravel – as plots of this sort always do – it lashes Joe and Dottie together at the wrist. We can see that horrible things are in-store for almost everyone involved, but that Joe and Dottie have a handle on both their individual and mutual situations. It’s the small measure of medicine we need: like an antacid after a heavy meal.
On the page, KILLER JOE is vile and off-putting. Brought to life though, by this collection of top actors, and overseen by a top-tier director, KILLER JOE sizzles with sensationalist allure. In some ways, the movie feels like staring into a muddy, oily puddle in a junkyard: It contains moments of beauty and fascination within something that is generally truly ugly.
Well said about McConoughey, in some ways he is playing his own on screen persona. Get naked a lot, wear his cowboy hat, and talk with his Texan slang. He brings something unique into every role. Joe is a lot of fun to watch.
That’s the funny thing though – he’s playing himself but he’s not. Every time out he’s bringing something slightly different, which has him showing us just that little bit more range.
I’m suddenly very fascinated by what the man will do next…
Great review! I really can’t wait to see that one, it sounds fantastic and I only read positive things about it so far.
Apologies for the late reply Sati…TIFF and all that…
The movie is a really good one, but it’s also very schlocky (especially in the late-going_. Check it out, but prepare yourself for craziness.
Finally saw this one. Shocking! Takes the “nucleus” out of the family and turns it nuclear! This joins a proud tradition of western family meltdowns started by Sam Shepard and continued by the Coens. In the 70’s Sam Shepard had a trilogy of plays, “Curse of the Starving Class”, “Buried Child”, and “True West”, describing in vivid detail the explosion of family disfunction and dissolution! In “Joe” it seems everything has been boiled down to a violent blood-bath. There is of course “symbolism”. What else could it be when you give a KFC drumstick a blowjob! But the meaning eludes me. I can’t connect at any level to anyone in this film. Surrealism plays a part as well. The “farm” is a feature in these western dramas. Here, the farm, as told by Chris, is home to diseased and screaming rabbits! Quite a picture. Mayhem, murder, gunplay, bloodspray everything the modern,movie audience demands! More than anything, this is a comment on “postmodern” American art in cinema. Give me Sam Shepard any day!
Apologies Ray – I don’t know why it took me three weeks to respond to this.
I haven’t seen much Sam Shepard, so I’m useless in terms of making the comparison. I don’t think we’re supposed to connect with anyone in this film – there certainly doesn’t seem to be anyone who is morally redeeming (not even Dottie). I never got the sense that Friedkin was going for a whole lot of meaning here – more the sense that he wanted to shock the audience with tabloid in the grimiest setting he could.