There’s no question that William Friedkin’s new film Killer Joe is a southern fried hunk of trash. It’s crude, crass, offensive, and completely exploitive. But it’s a damned entertaining southern fried hunk of trash. On its surface it tells a typical crime story with a dash of noir influence—nothing special—but that typical story is told with so much personality and style that it becomes a unique filmgoing experience regardless. It’s funny too, real funny. The script was adapted from a Tracy Letts play by Letts herself, and though I’m not familiar with the source material, it’s hard to imagine that the story lost anything in translation.
As a matter of fact, Killer Joe might have gained something by making the jump to the screen, because the performances here are all exceptional and elevate already great material to new heights. Matthew McConaughey is playing the title character, a corrupt cop who works as a hired killer on the side, and he plays the role with a confidence and a swagger that few men on the planet could muster. He’s not playing things so charismatic that you like him, however. He’s a dangerous, dead-eyed creep, and he manages to keep you feeling uncomfortable throughout the whole film. Juno Temple is also exceptional as the virginal young girl who serves as his payment. She’s something of an ethereal pixie, and the unhinged personality she injects her character with always keeps you guessing at just how simple or disturbed she really is. She’s certainly naive to a point, but with a dangerous undercurrent that might give you fairy-related nightmares. Special mention should also be made of Thomas Haden Church, who makes playing dumb more hilarious and endearing than it’s ever been.
Killer Joe deftly builds its danger, tension, and filth throughout its runtime up until it all comes to a head during a rather lengthy, intense scene that serves as its climax. Beyond being just satisfying, the film’s ending is so good it could probably work well on its own as a short film without any of the scenes that came before it. But the build takes things to a transcendent level that I’ll go ahead and say makes it Tarantino-esque. The last time I’ve seen a scene that was as successfully indulgent as this one, it had to be the girl-under-the-floorboards or the undercover-operation-in-the-tavern scenes in Inglorious Basterds. Likely you’ll walk away from Killer Joe feeling a buzz, but whether its due to disgust or joy will come down to how delicate your sensibilities.
