I have never actually seen an NC-17 rated movie during its theatrical run until this film. Now I can say I’ve lived.
It was drastically different than most films shown at big screen multiplexes. First I had to show ID when I bought a ticket, even though only the most obtuse theater cashier would think I’m younger than 17, but they would have asked me that if I were visibly sixty. “It’s policy for NC-17 rated movies.” But what really threw me was the theater employee that sat outside the physical theater checking ticket stubs. That’s right, two theater workers (poor kids that should have been texting while pretending to sweep theaters) had to sit outside the theater all day long checking stubs for anyone trying to get into Killer Joe, like it’s a strip club or something. Now of course, someone could have had an adult buy them a ticket and then just used the stub to get into the theater, but I guess they felt they took every precaution short of patting us down and having us walk through a metal detector.
What Works: The film is actually much less violent than I would have assumed, and it’s pretty clear that the NC-17 rating is for sexuality, not gore, but that’s probably no surprise to anyone familiar with the MPAA’s aversion to sex and favorability to violence. Although I will admit that what makes Killer Joe such a unique NC-17 rated movie is that it’s not so much the content of what’s being shown (a beaver shot here, a naked ass there) as the context. There are some very disturbing ideas running all throughout this film, psychological violence that will probably linger in someone’s mind a lot longer than physical violence would.
The basic plot is about a desperate smalltime drug dealer in Trailer Park, Texas who must come up with some owed money or else. He then comes up with the idea to kill his despised mother in order to cash in on a life insurance policy she has, and turns to “Killer Joe” Cooper, a Dallas cop who moonlights as a hit man. When he can’t come up with Joe’s upfront fee, Joe offers to take his young sister as sexual collateral. Various other lowlifes orbit this seriously twisted family. I can’t say I exactly fell in love with this movie, and there’s no denying it’s average at best, but it does contain an A-level performance from Matthew McConaughey as the titular sick cop. This is the bravest, best work I’ve ever seen from him, and I can’t imagine another A-list actor doing work this daring.
What Doesn’t Work: The last scene (not the infamous fried chicken leg “climax,” but the actual last scene) felt rushed and unsatisfying to me. And this is definitely one of those movies that’s easier to admire than like. For every person who likes it, they’ll be ten who don’t…which may not be a bad thing for a certain kind of viewer. I kept an open mind, enjoyed its sick rhythms and sense of spontaneity, but it’s doubtful I would watch it twice.
What I Would Have Done Differently: This film is based on the play by Tracy Letts, and I have no idea how that ended or if the movie is true to it, but it doesn’t work dramatically, period. They should have changed it, because audiences who were otherwise liking the film won’t come out with a very favorable view. [Half the ballgame is a good ending.] Nobody’s saying it has to be a Disney ending, and that wouldn’t have felt right, but a film can’t feel so abrupt that it feels like they just had no idea how to end it. Also, it’s about twenty minutes into the movie before Killer Joe ever shows up, and he disappears for long stretches of the movie. It’s no surprise that those stretches aren’t nearly as good.