Article: The Dirty South

A favourite podcast of mine that I often have filling my earholes when I am preparing the Sunday roast is the highly informative, often funny podcast Behind the Bastards. Hosted by former Cracked Writer Robert Evans; each episode documents an infamous grifter, villain or dictator from the world’s rogues gallery. A recent episode dealt with the recent phenomenon of Tiger King. If you’ve not got Netflix and have been living under a rock, The Netflix show depicts the beyond the bizarre tale of a polyamorous, gay wild cat owner, whose increasingly insane antics ended up with the aforementioned Joe, banged up in Federal Jail for violating the endangered species act and the attempted murder of another Big Cat owner Carole Baskin. The limited series delves into the outrageous lives of a variety of eccentric characters. Joe’s nonconformist lifestyle is as much of the documentaries focus as his grifting and obsession with Baskin. Everything seems to hold itself in a twisted sense of balance. 

Much has been said about the show and the background of the people for whom it is about. But the thing that really picked my brain about the show came from comedian Billy Wayne Davis who guested on the Behind the Bastards Podcast. With his origins based in a more rural, part of southern American, Davis’ reaction was one of near passivity. To him, he had met so many people like the cast of colourful characters on the show, that while he found the show funny, he was non-plussed by their behaviour. Remarking in a near throwaway comment that folks like Joe Exotic only shock city folk due to the little knowledge they hold of locations that the likes of Joe inhabit. Such criminality is common. Crooked lawmen. Hired hitmen. Dubious means of obtaining sums of cash. And always wrapped up within a lifestyle which goes beyond the fringes. Davis also stated on the podcast; The Daily Zeitgeist, that the likes of Jodie Hill and Danny McBride nailed the rural, southern way of life way before the hit Netflix show in their films The Foot Fist Way (2006) and the sitcom Eastbound and Down (2009). Personally, a part of me thinks that we should have been primed for the likes of Joe Exotic in films such as the 1998 Florida noir, Wild Things.

There is plenty of southern fried features with questionable escapades that could easily make an enjoyable overnight binge along with Tiger King. But for me, it’s Wild Things that sticks out as the crown jewel. True Crime has made a splash in the podcast and streaming world with its lurid elements and forensic details. However, a film like Wild Things was indulging itself in the same type of sociopathic chicanery way before Joe Exotic hit the zeitgeist. There is a clear love of the sensationalised indulgences that true crime shows, and podcasts enjoy playing into. But while a show such as Making a Murderer (2015) still can claim an element of moral justice. Tiger King leans into the outlandish mechanisms that also lie within John McNaughton’s humid cult hit. A backcountry playground removed from a so-called civilised world far to up its backside. Non-conformist sexual behaviour, crooked cohorts and the feeling that everyone not only for personal gain but are also a law into themselves. Likable characters are not what you watch either Tiger King or Wild Things for, but the needling desire to see thorn filled rabbit hole leads for these creatures is a strong pull.

In an article for The Ringer released around Wild Things’ 20th anniversary, bestselling author Shea Serrano recounts the amounts of double-crosses that occur in Wild Things’ 108-minute running. Shea notes the number of deceptive shenanigans with glee, yet it’s not noted at how well the film manages to do this. Wild Things comes out in an era where plot-twists and post-modern monkeyshines are well noted. Let’s not take into account Neve Campbell popping up in Scream (1996) or the question of Who is Keyser Soze. Wild Things still comes out a year before The 6th Sense (1999) a film in which that film's major plot twist leaves the audience shook for years to come. Wild Things has TWELVE double crosses within its running time, with Shea averaging that at a double-cross every 9 minutes. Doing for plot twists what Airplane! (1980) did for sight gags. This is, however, a showcase to how drum-tight the movie’s narrative is and how well-oiled the mechanics play out. John McNaughton (Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer) is not a directorial name that features often in circles of social media, those who know the name, know that he is no slouch. Watching Wild Things again, it is fascinating to watch how characters are blocked in scenes to foreshadow hidden agendas and to keep the audience guessing. The positioning of characters, as well as cutting and story shaping from editor Elena Maganini, are a great example of “the seen unseen”. A character placed behind a gated fence, but only after certain aspects play out first. A coupling of characters suggesting an unfortunate outcome for one, but almost signaling out another character who is running out of view. It’s also worth noting aspects such as casting Theresa Russell as the rich bitch Sandra Van Ryan. Russell who had a notable role in crime drama Black Widow (1987) in which she plays a murderous sociopath who murders for money. The film’s sheer audacity to cast Robert Wagner in a film that obtains mysterious boating incidents as set pieces is a clear note of the film’s gallows humour.

Poor Taste? Of course. But Wild Things is a film that knows what it is playing at. Salacious is the order of the day. Both Tiger King and Wild Things embrace taboo and scandal with loving arms. They ride on the idea of the guilty pleasure. Itching at spots that many would like to claim they do not have. The infamous threesome is a moment with a decent amount of sleazy steaminess yet is sneaky enough with the ages of the female students that no one appears to care that they are sleeping with their former teacher that should know better. However, as the camera gleefully glides slowly over the wet body of Denise Richards midway through the film, you see that the film is playing you like a flute. Roger Ebert in his review of the film asks people to refrain from telling him the film is in bad taste. It is quite clear. It makes no excuses. Ebert also remarks that the film is designed for “connoisseurs of melodramatic comic vulgarity”. How do you feel when you see Richards’ washing a dirty jeep in short shorts? Do you note that she is a school student in the film? Your answers will guide you on whether you would want to watch the film. It may also dictate your feelings towards something like Tiger King. The only difference (thankfully) Wild Things is fiction. 

Listen to the Fatal Attractions Podcast episode of Wild Things here

Review: Bastards

Yeah: 2013 (UK release 2014)
Director: Claire Denis
Screenplay: Jean-Pol Fargeau Claire Denis
Starring: Vincent Lindon, Chiara Mastroianni

Synopsis is here:

I found myself to be quite bowled over with Bastards. This was a feature that I had no expectations for, yet discovered it to be the type of revenge film that I lust for. Its fractured structure and slow burn philosophy to the nature of its straightforward narrative threw me for a loop. It allows its characters to breathe yet the film wallows in such desolate, nocturnal tones it becomes suffocating.

It starts simply enough, a death, a sexual assault, a dysfunctional family and a hinted plot for revenge but slowly (very slowly mind) becomes something twisted and unnerving. Pieces of the puzzle are given to us but Denis’ film is all about its foreboding mood. It wants us in the squalor with the characters we’re watching. We need to be drenched in the same filth as them. When we slot the pieces into place the film wants us to know that the entire picture is ugly.

While the sums of the film’s parts are pretty standard, it’s Denis’ focus on character that sways things. The film plays with the same type of sleazy cynicism that littered Ben Wheatley’s Kill List. The people we watch may hold wealth, but slip into the backside of Paris so well they become near camouflaged. Protagonist Marco Silvestri’s (a brooding and craggy Vincent Lindon) outer shell of affluence betrays a corroded core brought on by his secretive and destructive family. It’s no surprise that we find their once successful shoe company now plumbing the depths of bankruptcy. As the film ploughs on, the liner plot has us guessing how it all slots in, yet the themes point to ideas of business lives being invaded by the personal.

But what really hits you is the tension; a creeping feeling of foreboding and desperation that sits awkwardly with a viewer throughout. Haunting images are glimpsed and loiter in the brain like unshakeable blemishes; an assaulted teen wondering waif-like through the night, a discarded bike we remember in the hands of another character. Denis uses these moments not only to disconcert us but to keep us locked in the films distilled bitterness. By the end of the film I wasn’t just left with the how and why, but a profound sorrow at the film’s dismissal of innocence and it’s perversion of loyalty. Never has a title been so apt.  

Review: Killer Joe

Year: 2011 (U.K Release 2012)
Director: William Friedkin
Screenplay: Tracy Letts
Starring: Emile Hirsch, Gina Gershon, Thomas Haden Church, Juno Temple, Matthew McConaughey

Synopsis is here


This twisted southern gothic noir, feels like Friedkin and writer Tracey Letts tore chunks from. Double Indemnity (1944) and flung them in boiling hot trans fats. It’s a devilishly amoral tale which is not for audiences who desire a hero to root for.

Considering the landscape of American cinema has mostly been filled adaptations of populist books and comic books, it does surprise when something like this comes along these days. Letts appears to be no Syd Field convert and Friedkin, clearly doesn't care that it's 2012, making a film that has the feel of a director who made films in the 70s. After so many origin stories of ever good superheroes, this upsets the balance like a stone in the foot. At first, it is hard to get into the rhythms. The jump cuts, the offbeat marks of the actors; it's all a little disorientating at first.

But then what do you expect when we're a film that is so combative from the off? Beginning in a thunderous storm we are introduced to the films catalyst, Chris (Hirsch), by a barking dog. We've seen movies like this, when the dog barks, there's trouble afoot. The animals always seem to read the situation best. Having such an aggressive animal intro this character, not only signals that there's trouble a comin' but also supplies an echo back to the fighting dogs from Friedkin’s seminal horror film The Exorcist (1973). Interestingly enough, both The Exorcist and Killer Joe have desperate families looking to an enigmatic stranger to expel evil. The difference here is that everyone in Killer Joe has morals of the Edinburgh toilet in Trainspotting (1996).

The opening gambit is one used down many a noir, Chris has debts and believes that killing his abhorrent (yet mostly unseen) mother for her insurance payout is the right way to go. He manages to rope his dopey father (Church) in to help with proceedings, for no real reason other than they are no longer a couple. They hire Joe Cooper; a detective who’s a hitman on the side, to get the deed done. And the payment? $25,000 when the check clears with Chris' "uncomplicated" sister as a retainer. The moment we meet Dottie (Temple), dressed in virginal white, we can see where things are heading.

Killer Joe plays in the same realm as Herzog's Bad Lieutenant (2009). A sun baked fever dream of dirty dealings and dubious morals. Innocence is a word in the dictionary, if your indebted to loan sharks, you better hope the cops don't like the creditors better. Friedkin has captured a shit of the shoe pocket of existence that lends itself to the likes of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) or even Rob Zombies Halloween (2007). These characters glare at each other with wide eyes and contempt, scrabbling over each other in order to survive. Friedkin captures this energy with the same zeal he had with his earlier films. Here however, he knows the distance we need to keep from these people. He finds the absurd humour that languishes between the lines. At one point, Chris' creditors catch up with him and they enjoy a conversation that one would hold with close friends before the inevitable beat down. The cinematography by Caleb Deschanel captures the contempt and aggression that simmer between the characters. The gaudy blue beams of a strip club, desolate roadside crosses, dry heat sizzle of the day and the thunderstorm nights combine and paint a picture of a town that Texas forgot.

Within all this is an actor who is truly in his element. Matthew McConaughey is truly at his best with this performance. The man appears to be having a purple patch (See The Lincoln Laywer) and all credit is due to him. Joe Cooper is a character with a searing intensity I would never have expected from a leading man who has spent much of the last decade leaning on rom-com posters. Here is a chilling role that taps into the same darkness that was seen in Frailty (2002). Unpredictability looms over every scene he features. We dread every slow step he takes. Meanwhile, I've nearly made up my mind on how I feel about Hirsch as one again I've seen him in a movie in which he appears out of step with everybody else. His exchanges feel stilted (both him and the limited locations remind us that the material was originally a play) but he doesn't fully frustrate. Church and Gershon on the ther hand, are perfect. While Temple is the film’s ying to Joe’s yang, playing the role with enough sympathy for us to feel the risk. "Your eyes hurt" she exclaims to Joe, and we can see why. She is a white trash angel. One who is completely untouched. Joe's seedy, unflinching gaze does nothing but disturb. Is he grooming her to harm her, or is he really infatuated? The balance is struck so fine, it's impossible to detect.

What is detectable is some of the gender politics at play. The often mention fried chicken sequence is one of humiliation that may cause many to bulk. While Joe’s interactions with Dottie are very uncomfortable. A million readers may be tantalised by one Christian Grey but I doubt they'll look at the domination in Killer Joe with the same doe eyes.

Friedkin states that he films are about the thin line between good and evil. It's the same here, although the lines are much more blurred. Much like the little seen Bug (2006), the uneasy energy crackles in the atmosphere. The surroundings are claustrophobic and the people are gasping for air. Despite being so far away and so long ago, Friedkin's direction once again places us in that small bedroom in Washington. As a film maker, one can say he's never really left. I will say that there is something in Tracey Letts work that once again brings out the nasty in Friedkin. The world here feels like an extension of the fishbowl found in Bug. Characters seem to share the same psychosis, willing to fall for so much to keep their fever dreams alive. The films ending is aburpt and will frustrate, but consider it the end of one story and the beginning of another.
I do however, doubt you'll mind too much. Considering how much this film will you drag around in the sand anyway, you may be happy just to get the grit out of our eye.