Rating: R | Runtime: 109 minutes
Release Date: June 8th, 2010 (UK) / June 25th, 2010 (USA)
Studio: Icon Film Distribution / IFC Films
Director(s): Michael Winterbottom
Writer(s): John Curran / Jim Thompson (novel)

It’s always lightest just before the dark.

Nobody is more across the board genre-wise than director Michael Winterbottom. Who else could traverse the broad canvases of Steve Coogan shenanigans, Guantanamo Bay documentation, the human condition of emotion in the face of terrorism, and an unsimulated meld of sex and rock n’ roll? Shake those sensibilities up with screenwriter John Curran’s penchant for thought-provoking material (this year’s Stone is much more than the cookie cutter fare its trailer advertises) and the pulp crime styling of novelist Jim Thompson and you’ll need to prepare yourself for a unique visionary tale of the beast rising inside a well-mannered West Texas deputy sheriff.

Even so, The Killer Inside Me still wasn’t what I expected. With all the buzz describing its hard-to-watch violence and sex, I thought it would be Natural Born Killers with a stern filter devoid of the comic attributes I love about that Oliver Stone film. Instead, the filmmakers give us a methodical look into the intricately laid out and improvised plans of a man broken. Someone with the capacity to love if only to feel something upon destroying it.

We catch glimpses into Lou Ford’s (Casey Affleck) past but are never quite aware of what we see. Union leader Joe Rothman (Elias Koteas) helps illuminate things by mentioning the death of Ford’s stepbrother Mike, alluding to a conspiracy involving the county’s king of industry Chester Conway (Ned Beatty), and how the young man was possibly murdered in response to a jail stint for a crime we soon learn Lou committed.

Sexually abused as a child (by a woman who I’m going to infer was his mother) the boy doesn’t become a battered victim, but instead revels in the activity of sadomasochism—a practice he later adopts in his adult sexual escapades. We know this at the very beginning once Lou heads out to evict a prostitute (Jessica Alba’s Joyce) only to end up smacking her around with his belt and beginning an affair while his girlfriend Amy (Kate Hudson) waits at home in their bed. But, like all great sociopaths, Ford expertly changes his hats to connive his way into workable alibis by framing innocents, exacting revenge, and getting arousal from both the women and thrill of danger.

You begin to look beyond how all the pieces appear to fall into place for Ford, his plans seemingly foolproof with every snag conveniently being rectified by increasing the body count. Affleck’s performance is too good to ignore in the face of the story he inhabits. With gorgeous visuals—somber and tense scenes with others becoming awash in brilliant light to hauntingly whiten the frame—and language so wonderful in its precise attention to southern etiquette regardless of tragedy striking, Winterbottom shows his mastery of tone.

He even has his lead actor narrate the proceedings. This noir convention helps explain motivations and is utilized to delve deeper into the mind of this monster. A man of the law known by everyone in Central City, no one would ever suspect the dark secret of violence he holds at bay. Only Rothman has a clue to who the real Ford might be, but he isn’t in a place to expose the charade. And, by then, Lou has already found a release for the darkness via his sexual tryst in Joyce’s bed. The dragon grows stronger and more willing to enter the world.

The actual plot is a series of backstabbing and revenge tactics so Ford can even some scores before leaving town with the prostitute he’s fallen for. Despite Affleck’s calm delivery and quiet cadence, his remorselessness trumps any true emotional attachments, making everyone in his life expendable to his endgame. The capacity to love and feel sorrow lives in tandem with his penchant to make those who wronged him suffer. Anyone getting in the way of those plans will be collateral damage, no matter who he/she might be.

One murder demands a second and a chain of tragic events follow as a direct result. Ford will do anything to steer clear of the charges: never wanting to hurt anyone else, but willing to do so if the goal calls for it. People get too close, accidents happen, and errors must be corrected. The beauty to The Killer Inside Me, though, is that we must look back and wonder if the police knew all along. Through the twists and turns, both Sheriff Bob (Tom Bower) and Agent Howard Hendricks (Simon Baker) act as one would from the tragedy at-hand. But maybe it’s the realization of what Ford is that causes their anguish.

The sex scenes do their best to show Ford’s desire to inflict pain and the violence is realistic with fists and kicks flying before contacting flesh that’s softened and swollen from extreme repetition. Ford apologizes during these acts. The murders are justified in his mind, but they still weigh on the happiness of his libido. He has everything planned out to the smallest detail and no one is quicker on his toes when wrenches start to appear.

Brent Briscoe’s drifter enters as the perfect scapegoat for both sides of the crimes. He could be the final piece to Ford’s puzzle—a happy accident or the last bit of questionable evidence to have enough for an arrest. Either way, it’s just a game for Ford. Capture was always an option and he knows the authorities must have something on him. It culminates into a final blowout where all the important players are in attendance. He gets his climactic finale to end his orchestra of death with a bang.

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Kate Hudson as Amy Stanton and Casey Affleck as Lou Ford in THE KILLER INSIDE ME directed by Michael Winterbottom Photo Caption: Michael Muller.