William Friedkin
Killer Joe

I have always maintained, and I wasn't wrong at all: Friedkin is one of the few who does not disappoint (those who are left disappointed and claim to love his cinema probably don't know it well enough). I say one of the few to relate him to other legendary directors who have recently made new films: I am referring to Carpenter, with "The Ward," to Landis with "Burke and Hare," and to Cronenberg with the masterpiece "Cosmopolis." Friedkin's work is even more valuable for this reason, as, if the others stayed more or less in their "realm," this "Killer Joe" is a rather atypical work in Friedkin's filmography, even though an admirer can see his signature from miles away: shots that are anything but excessive yet incredibly powerful and pure (new pseudo-avant-gardists should learn this, as they can't even spell the word avant-garde), blood so pure and natural it feels like returning to the times of The Guardian, shots that tear and rend in a meticulous but, importantly, never excessive manner, almost reminiscent of Chance's death in "To Live and Die in L.A.," punches that truly feel like they're hitting you in the face, like the incredibly heavy one McConaughey lands on Gershon, amazingly realistic, as we have come to expect from the director (see the car crash in "Jade" or the chases in "To Live and Die in L.A." or "The French Connection," to cite a few episodes). These and other elements give the film a clear and distinct stamp and make Friedkin's hand evident, as if there were any doubt. Despite what has been said, the film isn't great because it is violent but because violence is such a natural and necessary thing for certain people. As I was saying, the important thing is the staging of violence (physical and psychological) and its reasons, not violence itself: if the director had included scenes of splattering blood on walls like in oriental or Tarantino-style cinema, the film would have lost a great deal, because in this world there is nothing poetic or artistic; if Killer Joe were going around with a machete... ENOUGH! Cinema would have lost. People who point to the Tarantino feel of this film should first understand that the two directors have vastly different styles (probably some have watched "Pulp Fiction" and "Django Unchained," browsed some trashy website and believe they understand Tarantino: no, you don't), and second, that the Tarantino genre is done well only by Tarantino; the rest is garbage. And Friedkin does not make garbage, quite the opposite. In 2013, any slightly violent script is associated with Tarantino by fools and incompetents. William Friedkin is the most important living American director alongside Carpenter and Cronenberg, and this film is yet another confirmation of its beauty, importance, and solidity. Tarantino still has a lot to prove.

A note to the actors: Hirsch is very good, Gershon is sensational and wonderfully vulgar, Juno Temple is stunning and excellent (also worth watching in Araki's Kaboom=amazing), and McConaughey is a great, great actor whom even I wouldn't have given two cents: after this work with Friedkin, he has been on fire ("The Paperboy" wonderful, "Mud" very good, now I eagerly await him in the new Scorsese but even more in "Dallas Buyers Club"; let's hope for the best).