Killer Joe (2012)

Killer Joe is a grubby blast of amoral fun featuring a revelatory turn by Matthew McConaughey as the titular Joe; a smooth cop who moonlights as a hitman. Emile Hirsch is Chris, a redneck who owes money to some less than reputable characters. Chris hatches a plan to murder his estranged mother for the insurance money and brings in his dad, Ansel, to help him out. Realising they aren’t smart enough to pull off a murder they decide to hire Killer Joe to do the job, except Joe demands payment upfront and the boys have no money. Chris’ sister, Dottie, catches Joe’s eye and Joe suggests an unconventional arrangement (let’s call it a retainer).

Killer Joe is in many ways old-fashioned despite frequent moments of modern, explicit brutality. It feels as if it’s filtered through a lens that blends early 90s neo-noir features like Red Rock West with a gritty exploitation vibe from grind-house 70s films. It should come as no surprise to discover William Friedkin (The Exorcist, The French Connection, Cruising) is the directorial force behind this perverted gem although there’s such a youthful energy behind the movie that you would never guess Friedkin was 76 years old.

Across the board, Killer Joe showcases fantastic performances, including Thomas Haden Church as the laconic and not so smart, Ansel; Juno Temple shows herself to be a star in the making as the sweet Dottie; and Gina Gershon again proves she is up for anything as Ansel’s girlfriend and co-conspirator. The picture is all about McConaughey though, and he gives a truly game-changing performance that perfectly balances charm and menace. After a great turn in The Lincoln Lawyer last year and several more fascinating upcoming roles, McConaughey has finally stepped out of the rom-com cruise control mode we lost him in for a while and is proving himself to be a stellar actor.

Transcending the theatrical origins of the source material, Killer Joe is a supremely fun little noir story. Violent, coarse, perverted, and sickly hilarious, this is highly recommend for those who like their entertainment on the nasty, demented tip.

4/5

Their first crime was being stupid. The subjects of Tracy Letts' play Killer Joe give trailer trash a bad name. They are trailer effluvia; fortunate enough to have taken human form, but lacking all the necessary requirements to keep themselves from accidentally orchestrating their own violent deaths. Usually, an author's unabashed disdain for their characters makes for an unpleasant viewing experience. But in William Friedkin's film adaptation (also written by Letts), we are encouraged to take pleasure in the revelry, and giggle as everyone unwittingly strolls towards punishment, because they deserve it. It's a testament to Friedkin's lasting power as a director, Letts' unmistakable way with words, and the entire cast's truly game commitment, that this thing is even remotely watchable, let alone fun, funny, and fundamentally entertaining.

Idiot drug dealer Chris Smith (Emile Hirsch) loses his stash of cocaine, and winds up deep in debt to some violent thugs. During one thunder-struck evening, he comes to his dumb ol' dad Ansel (Thomas Haden Church) with an idea: they should hire someone to whack Chris' biological mother, so that his emotionally damaged teen sister Dottie (Juno Temple) can claim the life insurance. That $50,000 will be enough to keep the aggressors at bay, pay off the hit man, and provide the Smiths with a nice little financial bonus. We've seen these plans go awry when formulated by genius masterminds. Chris and Ansel have no chance of seeing this thing end successfully. They call upon depraved Dallas detective (and part time murderer) Joe Cooper (Matthew McConaughey), offering him the sexual services of Dottie as a retainer in lieu of his usual $25,000 fee. He accepts their offer, having already been charmed by her acquaintance. These are ugly, ugly people.

A lot happens over the course of Killer Joe, as you may have likely assumed with this many moving pieces in play. However, two key sequences are likely to scorch themselves in your mind. The first is Dottie's "date" with Joe. Juno Temple is remarkably fragile and unusual in this, with her innocence masking darker traits either genetically passed on from her morally decrepit family, or fostered by years of abuse. Even more impressive is McConaughey, who deploys his charm as a blistering, terrifying weapon. Watching Joe slowly, sweetly, and then insistently toy with Dottie is harrowing stuff, only topped by the other memorable movie moment, in which he interrogates Ansel's cheating wife Sharla (Gina Gershon) as to the whereabouts of his money. Seeing that veneer of restraint stripped away from McConaughey like so much fried chicken skin is deeply unsettling. In the final moments, he charges around the Smiths' trailer like a prowling animal, torturing them in ways that I couldn't possibly write here (and in ways that I've never seen before).

Though the movie carries the unmistakable mark of having been formerly a play - fewer scenes/longer scenes than in the usual fare - it has been lovingly and gorgeously adapted, whilst still maintaining that visceral, invasive, immersive, and inescapable sensation of seeing the horror unfold live. Make-up indicating bruises, blood stains, and greasy leftovers are smeared in such a manner that is almost beautiful, and certainly disgusting. Much of the movie's look reminded me of Twin Peaks, and it was only a mild surprise to learn that Caleb Deschanel (who photographed several notable episodes) was the cinematographer here. Stage-to-screen adaptations are rarely this primal, and it's been a long time since a William Friedkin film has felt so vital.

4/5

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