The poster tells us that “Killer Joe” is a “totally twisted deep-fried Texas redneck trailer park murder story.” I will not object to a single word of this. Its primary setting is indeed a trailer park, and its characters are indeed rednecks - or, if you will forgive the judgemental phrase, trailer trash. Our protagonist of sorts is Chris Smith (Emile Hirsch, “The Darkest Hour”), an amateur drug dealer living with his alcoholic mother in humdrum Texas. Amateur at his profession to a near-fatal fault, Chris is thousands of dollars in debt to the dangerous Digger Soames (Marc Macauley, “Dolphin Tale”). “You asked for an extra week,”says one of Digger’s biker henchmen. “That was three weeks ago.”
Chris is part of what you might call a broken family. His father, Ansel (Thomas Haden Church, “Sideways”), is a welder living in a dingy trailer park with Chris’ stepmother, Sharla (a fearless Gina Gershon, “P.S. I Love You”), and teen sister, Dottie (Juno Temple, “St Trinian’s”). These characters, who aren’t likable so much as engaging, are well-defined by Letts’ script and their performers: Ansel is a quiet man of limited wit, speech and ambition; Sharla is dubiously loyal and spectacularly skanky, greeting us with her bottom half completely unclothed; and young Dottie, a sleepwalker, is a vulnerable, child-like, almost angelic virgin whose age remains entirely unmentioned, which I strongly suspect is a deliberate tactic by Letts and Friedkin.
Thrown out by his coke-nabbing mother one wet and stormy night and forced to move in with pop, step-maw and sis (who are all convinced he hit his mother, again), Chris hatches a plan and shares it with Ansel. Y’see, Chris has discovered that if dear old mother were to meet her maker, little Dottie would receive $50,000 in insurance money - $50,000 that could be split between the family and used to free Chris from his recent money troubles. Enter Joe Cooper (Matthew McConaughey, “The Lincoln Lawyer”), a Texan detective moonlighting as a professional hitman. “Killer” Joe wants the $25,000 for his "services" paid up front and is about to walk away upon realising that Chris and Ansel are strapped for cash. That is, before he sets eyes on a scantily clad Dottie dancing across the street and asks to take her virginity as a “retainer” until the money is paid in full. Chris and Ansel hesitantly accept.
Predictably, the operation doesn’t quite go according to plan, though not in the most predictable ways. Things spiral wildly, violently out of control and hidden motivations are slowly unearthed, as is always the case when blood money is close at movie characters’ grubby little hands. Ambitiously, the film lunges face-first into the diverse territories of gritty family drama, bone-breaking action and pitch-black comedy, often in single scenes. It is Friedkin, whose direction is bold and unflinching, who helps maintain the consistent, unwavering tone, even when the film is both sincere and mocking at the same time. As in “Bug," his direction is also unflattering to his cast: Hirsch spends much of the film with nasty black-and-blue bruises decorating his face, and Gershon, as I mentioned earlier, is introduced to us - if I may borrow a phrase from “Bridesmaids” - beaver-first.
As Joe, McConaughey is a striking presence indeed, armed with all the devilish charm and quiet menace of Lord Lucifer himself. Sporting a pair of aviator shades, black leather gloves and the inevitable Stetson, Joe is a picture of cool and confidence, a fact of which he is all too aware. He is slick and slimy, sinister and gentlemanly, capable of wooing a young lady and caving in a grown man’s skull with a tin can swiped from the kitchen worktop. Previously trapped in a seemingly inescapable rut of fluffy Hollywood rom-coms (“How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days,” “Failure to Launch” and “Ghosts of Girlfriend’s Past” instantly spring to mind), McConaughey gloriously reinvents himself in “Killer Joe" with a performance that is gutsy, enrapturing, sociopathic and commanding to the point of hypnotism.
Take, for example, the scene in which Joe takes Dottie’s virginity. He arrives on the trailer’s doorstep, calmly knocks on Dottie’s bedroom door and patiently awaits her presence in the living room. Clad in a tanktop and a pair of denim shorts, Dottie slowly enters the room and informs Joe that she changed out of a black dress at the last minute. Upon seeing the black dress, Joe requests that he see her in it. Dottie turns towards her bedroom to change. “Where are you going?” he asks. He wants her to change then and there right in front of him. She obliges. He turns his back to her, closes his eyes and begins removing his handcuffs, police badge, etc., from his belt. “Remove your brassier,” he orders, still turned. She does so. Joe unbuckles his belt and orders Dottie to remove her panties. She does so. Mysteriously, Joe seems to know the exact second at which a hesitant Dottie has completed her tasks. Dottie slides on the black dress. Joe turns. And then... well, I shan’t spoil it.
“Killer Joe” builds to an unhinged climax that is bombastic but contained. As luridly comical as it is utterly revolting, it is an extended scene that would solely earn the film its 18/NC-17 rating, and then some, if it weren’t for the rest of the film’s plethora of full-frontal nudity and neck-snapping violence. As I’m not one to divulge any spoilers of the films I review, I shall remain sparse with the details, although if you’ve heard anything about “Killer Joe,” you’ve probably heard something or other relating to this scene. What I will utter is a warning: Reader, I would strongly advise against bringing a bucket of KFC chicken into the theatre with you if/when you see “Killer Joe.” If you must, make sure you have it all gobbled up before the arrival of the third act. If not, your snack may become... unappetising.
Six years ago, “Bug” marked something of a return to form for Friedkin, who was previously remembered only for having directed “The Exorcist” and “The French Connection” forty-or-so years ago. “Killer Joe,” his 19th film, is a bigger return to form: it is a raw, encapsulating and provocative little tale of murder, incest, double-crosses and Kentucky-fried chicken legs. As I have already said, it is not a film for the faint of heart, but for those with hearts strong enough to endure its gleeful sleaziness and mischievous depravity, “Killer Joe” is a blast and a half.
9/10
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