It is Friedkin’s mannered pursuit of the macabre in his 2011 socio-pathetic amorality tale Killer Joe that elicits gut wrenching contractions, disarming the viewer to uneasy laughter that feels wrong for all the wrong reasons. The collateral damage does not end right away but lingers like nuclear fallout to poison all those who come after. Killer Joe excels at depravity for the sake of sick humor, blanketing terror in makeshift excuses that, because the real is strained through an excess of absurdity, bad judgment and dumb decisions are rendered palatable, even socially accessible when they are anything but. Continue reading ![]()
