I Am Not a Serial Killer (2016)
Ari Drew
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Starring Christopher Lloyd, Max Records, Laura Fraser
Directed by Billy O’Brien
Based on the first in a series of novels in the supernatural John Cleaver saga by author Dan Wells, I Am Not a Serial Killer saw its world premiere at SXSW 2016, a festival that is known to feature more than a few films seeking to break down genre barriers. In his particular cross-genre adaptation, Irish director Billy O’Brien (The Hybrid) enthusiastically takes on the difficult job of balancing the novel’s mystery and supernatural elements with bleak drama and dry humor, a lofty task for any director as we have witnessed over the years.
It’s no lie that such tonally blended stories can often read much more fluidly and effectively than when they are presented on film, and viewers who are huge fans of a film’s source material can no doubt be a tough crowd to please. It appears that the same will be the case for fans of Wells’ novel, as I Am Not a Serial Killer, while certainly a spirited film, does not quite succeed on the tonal front in conveying a fluid and cohesive tale.
The film follows a young man named John Cleaver (Records), who is obsessed with serial killers, spending his days researching famed past murder cases and working in a mortuary run by his mother (Fraser) and aunt. John is admittedly filled with a fear that he might one day be urged by his perceived homicidal tendencies to kill. To combat this, he has crafted a set of rules for his day-to-day dealings to keep him from acting on these tendencies and hurting others.
Living a life that is carefully kept in balance by a familiar regimen of restraint and attention, John manages to function as most other teenage boys do — for the most part. This is all threatened, however, when John begins to feel a connection with a local serial killer who has been brutally doing away with the citizens of his home town. As he discovers that there is a supernatural nature to the murders, John is thrust into an investigation of his own, seeking to bring down this killer before things get much worse.
There is no denying that the story here is quite novel, and I’m not sure I have ever encountered anything like it to date. Wells’ book certainly offers up plenty of fascinating characters for O’Brien and fellow screenwriter Christopher Hyde to work with. The setup for the character of John is wildly amusing to watch on the big screen, particularly as he digs around in viscera at the mortuary when his mother is not watching or explains his self-restraining rules to one of his only friends in the school cafeteria. Records embodies the teenage sociopath with an enjoyable authenticity, making for a performance that is believably angst-ridden and complex. Equally entertaining is Christopher Lloyd as John’s neighbor, Crowley, a curious old man whose fervent love for his wife belies some of his darker qualities. It is a joy to see Lloyd cast in a role that enables him to do more than show up and deliver lines, and he truly seems to have a blast here, playing it up with some very memorable exchanges and physical sequences.
While the plot itself is rife with material to make for a unique horror experience, there is a lot in I Am Not a Serial Killer that feels particularly amiss, however. It was tough to put my finger on it at first, but I ultimately chalked it up to a lack of meaningful connections made between characters. O’Brien’s visuals are stylistically chilly, which works well as a representation of the world through John’s eyes; however, it feels as if his overtly bleak visual and sonic approach inadvertently provides a numbing sense to the emotional core of the story, spilling over in a way that makes many of the exchanges between John and his mother or John and Crowley often feel cold and disconnected as well. The performances on their own are all quite solid here, but the relational development between characters lacked a genuine chemistry and I never really found myself feeling emotionally absorbed in them. This was a shame considering that many scenes between characters featured wonderfully quote-worthy dialogue (keep alert for the “cardboard box” speech, retained from Wells’ novel to great effect).
Additionally, O’Brien doesn’t quite deliver on the execution of blending scares and dry humor effectively, as neither aspect feels substantial enough as individual parts or a collective whole. Without an accompanying internal monologue from John in the film, there is not as much effective context for the dark laughs here, which often feel oddly timed and elicit quiet chuckles at best. I would not be as bothered by this if the film instead proved to be as chilling as its visual hues, but the scares are just not all that scary enough either. Though he nails some of the more striking visual beats via the supernatural element to the story, O’Brien does not do much to leave a lasting impression by way of genuinely residual chills.
There are some creative plot turns and stylistic moments that certainly work here (a scene on an ice pond and the creepy-crawly finale are rather fun), but I Am Not a Serial Killer ultimately falls victim to the same tonal incongruities and emotional shallowness that plagued films like John Dies at the End. I did not hate the film so much as I was disappointed by its failure to deliver on the initial promise of a unique genre experience. It is just not enough of any one thing successfully when all is said and done, and though the working parts seem to all be present and the performances are sound, it never quite clicks in a way that is memorable as the creative amalgamation it could have been.
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Film
Categorized:Reviews
