Reviewed by The Foywonder
Starring Yogi Joshi, Elissa Bree, Cassandra Church, Betrand Pare, Dawna Chaet, Kent Cady
Directed by Ulli Lommel
Distributed by Lionsgate Home Entertainment
Oh, joy, another movie loosely based upon a real-life serial killer from crap auteur Ulli Lommel, a man himself no stranger to mass murdering the craft of filmmaking. This time it’s Son of Sam and it’s another boring, poorly made, el cheapo piece of cinematic dung. Once again Ulli Lommel proves he has about as much use for facts as Paris Hilton does a “True Love Waits” ring. He also has no use for other basic filmmaking elements like production values, professional actors, pacing, a script, etc. This one has everything we’ve come to hate from Lommel.
It also has an extremely repetitious pattern. Lommel’s Son of Sam is just the same 15-minutes repeated five times over.
Berkowitz stands around with a vacant stare on his face. The actor playing Berkowitz will spend about 90% of his time on screen appearing to be in a near catatonic stupor.
Berkowitz walks around staring vacantly. You could turn this into a drinking game. Whenever you see the Brooklyn Bridge in the background, take a shot.
Berkowitz eavesdrops on random nameless people – no relation to any of the real-life victims – either arguing or making out with one another. He’s always ducked behind a corner or crouched behind an object so close to them it’s hard to believe they don’t notice this guy almost hiding in plain sight.
Berkowitz then guns them down. The kills are shot in a dreamlike manner that minimizes the gore but ratchets up the artsy fartsy gimmickry to an annoying degree.
Berkowitz flashes back to being initiated by a satanic cult. This cult consists of a woman in her bra & panties sitting in a circle with middle-aged guys in black robes chanting his name and stuff like “Receive him!” It’s like a failed attempt to perform an avant-garde dinner theater production of Satanis: The Devil’s Mass.
Berkowitz sits in a holding cell talking with a prosecutor about why he did what he did. Yawn.
Then the cycle begins anew. Rinse and repeat. That’s the whole movie, people. Lommel offers zero insight into Berkowitz’s mindset other than insinuating he was under the influence of a satanic cult. No psychology being explored, not enough cheap thrills for people seeking gruesome kicks, nor is it a suspenseful true-life crime drama. There’s nothing here but complete rubbish made by a filmmaker who gives the term “hack” a bad name.
The only deviation from this monotony comes towards the end when Berkowitz has an exorcism performed on himself in that very same interrogation room by a priest who looks more sinister than anyone in the satanic cult. Embarrassing stuff.
Movies like this are not only an insult to the audience; they’re also an insult to the actual victims of David Berkowitz. I’ll even go so far as to call this film an insult to David Berkowitz. At least the real David Berkowitz found God in prison, expressed remorse for the lives he took, and has even chosen to remain in prison as punishment for his crimes rather than seek the parole he’s now eligible for. Ulli Lommel is just a shameless, no-talent, sleaze merchant cashing in on real-life misery to make a quick buck.
And, yes, we also get a talking dog in this movie too. You may recall David Berkowitz claimed at one point that a talking dog played a part inspiring his killing spree. I think a talking dog could also make a better movie than Ulli Lommel at this point.
0 out of 5
1 out of 5
Make no mention of Son of Sam in the Dread Central forums!