Irish director Billy O'Brien turns the hackneyed and hacked-up serial killer movie genre on its head in this charming, low-key coming of age story set in small town America.
To quote Lou Reed from Songs for Drella, the reqiuem for Andy Warhol he recorded with John Cale, "when you're growing up in a small town, you know you'll grow down in a small town, there is only one good use for a small town, You hate it and you'll know you have to leave."
That may not hold true for the teen anti-hero in this effective little mix of irony, guts (lots of guts) and b-movie chills from Billy O'Brien.
The wonderfully named Max Records plays John Wayne Cleaver (his name makes sense very soon into the movie). He's not just a disaffected 16-year-old in Hicksville, USA; he's a kid with murderous tendencies who pretends to act normal to control his impulses.
In between getting bullied at school and hanging with his fellow nerds, he works in his mother and aunt's mortuary so when a series of grisly murders start taking place around town, the kid who wants to kill has something to live for.
Christopher Lloyd as the enigmatic Mr Crowley
Based on Dan Wells' young-adult novels of the same name and with very little in the way of a budget, O'Brien cleverly subverts cliches and serves up plenty of gore in a tale of kooks, slackers, bullies and wannabe prom queens in a sub-Lynchian black comedy. O'Brien also seems to savour an almost Cronenbergesque fascination with the inner workings of the human body.
Not terribly sure about Karl Geary as John's caring shrink Dr Niblin. He pops up throughout, doing a Judd Hirsch in Ordinary People act as he tries to get to the nub of the kid's pyschosis but the scenes are forced and flat.
And then there is young John's kindly old duffer of a neighbour, Mr Crowley. Played by the great Christopher Lloyd, he turns out to be a real enigma. An enigma which will keep you guessing right to the very (and very strange) end of this freaky flick. A weird little morsel with a lingering aftertaste.
Alan Corr @corralan
