Disney / Buena Vista
For those who may not know, the “slasher film” has its direct roots in the Italian giallos of the 60’s and 70’s.
Those films took their name from the yellow covers that foreign murder mysteries were published with in Italy, it’s a roughly similar arrangement to how Anglophone speakers will call a certain type of crime film “pulp.”
All of this is to say: I understand what Psycho Killer director Gavin Polone is trying to do with this film.
The modern crime thriller and the slasher film have a common ancestor, and when handled with care such as in films like Cruising or Road Games, good things can be done.
As long as you have the basics down, like a good, tough, exciting script, you can really give the audience something they’re not expecting.
This is where Psycho Killer gets it wrong: at the script stage (which is a disappointment considering the screenwriter was Andrew Kevin Walker, who previously wrote Se7en and 8 mm).
Psycho Killer follows Jane Archer (Georgina Campbell), a Kansas Highway Patrol officer who, after witnessing the brutal murder of her husband, Mike (Stephen Adekolu), by a serial killer during a routine traffic stop decides to go after the criminal alone, only to find out he’s a notorious serial killer. Jane tracks the perpetrator, the “Satanic Slasher” (James Preston Rogers), and eventually discovers his ties to a mysterious mansion owned by the enigmatic Mr. Pendleton (Malcolm McDowell). Jane must uncover the killer’s plan to carry out a final ritualistic “masterwork”, which could kill millions.
You can’t just try and mix something like Fargo with something like Urban Legend or My Bloody Valentine and call it a day. Serious crime thrillers, with real emotional heft, compel us to consider how cold and brutal Man is capable of being to himself, to find the tragedy in a life lived in pursuit of sudden violence. They generally draw humor from the unexpected idiosyncrasy, the distinctly human touch that rounds out a character who we may have been trained to see as a cliche.
For slashers (like martial arts films) the violence IS the attraction: people used to cut together their favorite kills on VHS tapes when I was a wee lad. Generally the humor comes from the implementation of cliche and the knowing wink to the audience about what’s to follow.
Psycho Killer gives the audience the most profoundly ridiculous slasher since Lucio Fulci decided to have his killer talk like Donald Duck in New York Ripper. It revels in his Satanic fixation, which the film is aware is a cliche almost as old as splitting up to search the haunted house. He’s got a vocoder you use on Halloween to change your voice and a gimp mask and he draws pentagrams in blood at the scene, because he’s obsessed with a self help cult.
Now you can get away with this shameless bit of cliche-mongering if you’ve got stylish direction, or editing or really great performances anchoring the whole thing. Other than Georgina Campbell nobody really attempts a serious performance in this film, some of the bit players are shocking in how perfunctory they are in their delivery and the whole film is shot and cut for economy, not for style. The lack of execution really casts doubt on whether the filmmakers are even self-aware of all the Satanic cliche they’re using throughout the film.
Do yourself a favor: check out the 1981 Australian thriller Road Games directed by Hitchcock devotee Richard Franklin. That’s a much better take on this material packed with suspense, violence, and simmering sexuality. Psycho Killer needs more time in the oven.
