THE KILLER INSIDE ME is a dark exploration of sex and violence. This is a review of it.

a film by Michael Winterbottom
Starring: Casey Affleck, Jessica Alba, Kate Hudson, Ned Beatty, Elias Koteas, John Goodman, Bill Pullman
Release Date: 4th June 2010
Running Time: 109 minutes
Cert: 18



The Killer Inside Me begins with a very earnest, almost adorable Deputy Lou Ford (Casey Affleck) being sent out to a shack on the edge of sleepy town to encourage a local whore (Jessica Alba) to move on to the next sleepy town because she has the potential to bring shame on the local oil toycoon’s family. So far, so country and western. Lou very politely asks the woman to get the boat and she is quite abrasive in her refusal. Then Lou looses the run of himself and things get sexy.

This loss of control sets in motion a chain of events that will see Lou’s life and psyche spiral out of control as he tries to maintain a façade as the dopey, innocent arm of the law, as well as his relationship with a local girl (Kate Hudson).

Violence against women is generally shocking, and this fim does not shy away. The theme of sadist fetishism runs through the sex scenes, and this lulls the viewer into a false sense of security. The first punch just seems like Lou getting a little carried away, but the punches very quickly get obviously deliberate and the taboo of violence against women imposes itself on your experience.

Jessica Alba often gets cast in slutty roles – stripper, hooker, etc – and is as unconvincing in this as she is in everything else she’s ever done. Her acting may not be appealing, but fans of her aesthetic will be pleased to know that she is not at any point fully clothed, and shows a healthy amount of sideboob.

Kate Hudson plays Lou’s other lust interest and she is much more impressive, occupying the more rounded role as his kinda fiance. Fans of Hudson’s aesthetic will also be happy to hear that she rarely dresses in anything more elaborate than a bra.

But that’s enough about the support. Normally in this kind of film you get an twitchy type of killer or the robotic type of killer. Casey Affleck occupies a middle-ground, appearing cool to whichever higher-up or acquaintance to have involved themselves with his goings on, while staring out a window looking like a bundle of nerves fit for demolition. This is new ground. He also chats away to his victims after they’re dead and narrates his own story too add to the sociopathology of it all.

The film, adapted by John Curran from a Jim Thompson novel, is the pet project of Bafta Award winner Michael Winterbottom, and the book appears to have really struck a chord with Mickey.

Psychology nerds might spot a copy of a book by Sigmund Freud next to a Bible in one important character developoment scene and ponder whether the film is an exploration of the connections between sex, violence and childhood trauma –the title is a double entendre. Well played.

Scenes like this open a window to the genisis of a killer, but the script is cute enough with details to leave some mystery as to whether Lou has all of a sudden gone of the deep end, or if he’s taken trips over the edge in the past.

All of this cleverness leaves the film in the middle of a wee muddle by the time the ending arrives and that it does come across as something of an ending for the sake of ending.

Despite this, The Killer inside me has a healthy dosage of spills, kills and sexual thrills to keep the average movie fan hooked and offers a deeper level of intelect for those who like the crust of their serial killer movies double stuffed with psychologicalness. Nom-nom-nom-nom-nom pyschology.