Supposedly based on the true life serial killer, Henry Lee Lucas (played by a turbulent Michael Rooker), but in fact is framed on tall stories of the largest fabler in American crime history (made even taller by director / scriptwriter John McNaughton, who adds his own two cents to the mythology). Henry Lee Lucas admitted to over 600 murders, whilst in fact, together with his comrade in mayhem Otis (Tom Towles) are probably culpable but for a fraction of those events. Inspired by the prefabricated musings of a trickster conspiring with police 'to clean up the books' John McNaughton supposedly presents us a portrait of a psychotic mind, but essentially remains underwhelmingly vacuous.
The hyperbole of Lucas's life story is taken at face value giving a terrifying vision of a pair of two morally incapacitated individuals, albeit Henry himself finds a soft spot for Otis's cousin Becky (Tracy Arnold). The trio of off-beat uneducated drifters clinch viewer attention with idle chit-chat coupled with pending violence boiling just below the surface. Unlike Hannibal-like eroticism the serial killers are hollow, dead and pitiful, which allow for a certain level of affinity with the characters, though thankfully never creating a need for compassion. Suitably events are portrayed pretty matter of fact (thankfully) without the ulterior intellectually deviant underpinnings so predominant in serial killer movies - this murderer isn't a deranged genius, just a murderous lost soul.
Low key direction with unassuming choreography keeps attention focused on Rooker and Towles, which make a oddly disturbing couple, believable, but at the same time unreal. Rooker especially has a tentative quality of lingering anger and dead eyes, which slowly rescinds during contact with the awkwardly naive Arnold. Gifted with the best lines Rooker excels at his portrayal painting an appalling picture of a psycho, albeit one that is doubly fictitious, hellbent on murder, but conscious enough to avoid having a modus operandi.
McNaughton does also have some nice touches, which add undeniable dread, especially with the opening act, where murders are not shown, but heard menacingly dubbed over pictures of corpses. The strongest point of the movie (in true "Funny Games" style), when a tellingly graphic murder of a family is presented as a video tape being watched by the serial killers, drawing comparisons between them and viewing watching such gruesome pictures. Disturbing and drastic hard to recommend as anything other than exploitative horror, one so vividly criticised by Haneke in "Funny Games". Roughly shot and essentially pointless and thoughtless, not even having the decency to entertain a story more based on fact and less on delusions. Maybe beforehand knowledge about the actual Henry Lee Lucs detracts away from viewing pleasure, as the true life story of his incarceration makes just a much more enticing talking point, than the on-screen imaginings presented by the director.
The hyperbole of Lucas's life story is taken at face value giving a terrifying vision of a pair of two morally incapacitated individuals, albeit Henry himself finds a soft spot for Otis's cousin Becky (Tracy Arnold). The trio of off-beat uneducated drifters clinch viewer attention with idle chit-chat coupled with pending violence boiling just below the surface. Unlike Hannibal-like eroticism the serial killers are hollow, dead and pitiful, which allow for a certain level of affinity with the characters, though thankfully never creating a need for compassion. Suitably events are portrayed pretty matter of fact (thankfully) without the ulterior intellectually deviant underpinnings so predominant in serial killer movies - this murderer isn't a deranged genius, just a murderous lost soul.
Low key direction with unassuming choreography keeps attention focused on Rooker and Towles, which make a oddly disturbing couple, believable, but at the same time unreal. Rooker especially has a tentative quality of lingering anger and dead eyes, which slowly rescinds during contact with the awkwardly naive Arnold. Gifted with the best lines Rooker excels at his portrayal painting an appalling picture of a psycho, albeit one that is doubly fictitious, hellbent on murder, but conscious enough to avoid having a modus operandi.
McNaughton does also have some nice touches, which add undeniable dread, especially with the opening act, where murders are not shown, but heard menacingly dubbed over pictures of corpses. The strongest point of the movie (in true "Funny Games" style), when a tellingly graphic murder of a family is presented as a video tape being watched by the serial killers, drawing comparisons between them and viewing watching such gruesome pictures. Disturbing and drastic hard to recommend as anything other than exploitative horror, one so vividly criticised by Haneke in "Funny Games". Roughly shot and essentially pointless and thoughtless, not even having the decency to entertain a story more based on fact and less on delusions. Maybe beforehand knowledge about the actual Henry Lee Lucs detracts away from viewing pleasure, as the true life story of his incarceration makes just a much more enticing talking point, than the on-screen imaginings presented by the director.