A Horrible Way to Die, 2010
Sarah (Amy Seimetz) is three months sober, but she’s also coming up on a much more serious anniversary: it’s been a few short years since her boyfriend, Garrick (AJ Bowen), was arrested and convicted of killing multiple women. Sarah begins to tentatively pursue a romance with Kevin (Joe Swanberg), a man from her AA Group, but her future with Kevin and her life itself are threatened when Garrick escapes from prison and begins to make his way toward her.
Making good use of a flash-foward/flash-back structure, this one doesn’t quite go the full distance due to an underdeveloped central relationship.
Several familiar faces---specifically Seimetz, but also Bowen and Swanberg--enticed me to check this film out. And I have to say that when it comes to performances, this film is pretty strong. Seimetz never disappoints, and I think she’s pretty great here in what is almost a dual role. Past-Sarah is drunk, and maybe even using her drunkenness to stave off the sense that something with Garrick is not right. But Present-Sarah is sober and grappling with the twin blades of fear and guilt. In one conversation at an AA meeting, Sarah reflects that maybe things would have been different if she weren’t drunk all the time. It’s hard to parse exactly what she means by this. Does she mean that if she’d been sober Garrick wouldn’t have killed those women? Does she mean that she would have figured things out earlier, possibly saving some women? Or does she possibly mean that he might have killed her if she weren’t so believing and complacent for so long?
Swanberg is unsettling as Kevin, a guy who is all smiles and tenderness, but who is clearly not quite right. Watching his character interact with Sarah is painful, because you can see how this woman ended up with a man who was a killer. On their first date, Kevin takes Sarah to a restaurant where they are surrounded by wine bottles. Clearly uncomfortable, Sarah accepts Kevin’s weak excuses and doesn’t insist on leaving, a bad sign moving forward. Swanberg gives every one of Kevin’s transgressions or quirks an uncomfortable edge, making you wonder how much we are seeing the real man, and how much of his behavior is actually intended to get under Sarah’s skin.
Bowen’s character and performance is the trickiest of the film, and I think that he mostly pulls it off. I started watching this film something like 10 years ago, and stopped very shortly into it because the dark themes and dizzying camerawork (more on that later) weren’t what I needed that night. But one scene that I have always remembered is the opening sequence: Bowen’s Garrick wakes up in a car, realizing he’s dozed off. He goes to the trunk where he retrieves a bound woman. Talking to her in a comforting manner, he rubs her shoulder and tells her that she’s going to be okay . . . all before choking her to death. He exudes a kind of good guy energy, and it’s jarring to see that transition from kind words and comforting tone to brutal murder. The film asks a lot of the character and the actor: wanting him to be scary, likable, maybe kind of sexy, and someone you can root for even as you fear for what he’ll do to Sarah. He’s a dizzying mix of a boogeyman, flawed protagonist, and classic horror slasher killer. I think it’s a credit to Bowen that he makes the character work as well as he does.
I also think that the structure of the film is interesting and engaging. We spend most of our time with Present Sarah, but the long stretches of flashbacks add depth to her story. We watch as she goes from gently questioning her boyfriend to deciding to figure things out to fear and denial about what she’s learned about the man she loves. The lingering question in the film is what will happen when the escaped Garrick finally closes the distance between himself and Sarah, and the flashbacks work to help us make our own predictions.
There are two things that don’t quite work in this film, which is a shame because it does have a lot going for it. The first is that the flashback sequences don’t feel quite adequate to me in terms of carrying the weight of justifying certain character decisions. Garrick feels very much like a character who was written for a movie. Yes, we’ve all heard stories about men whose wives had no clue that they were killing on the side. But we’ve all seen those guys, right? They aren’t empathetic teddy bears, they are narcissists who lived double lives. Garrick’s loyalty to Sarah doesn’t quite check out for me. The movie needs him to be a monster and a loving boyfriend, and I’m not sure that there really are people who actually have those two halves, only people who are good at role playing the latter.
Then there’s the camera work. I mean, guys. Guys. There’s the slightly-shaky hand-held camera work, and then there’s whatever is happening in this film. At several points it looks more like a parody of modern filmmaking style than something trying to be good. Many scenes begin with the camera out of focus, okay, fine. But then as a character is speaking the camera will veer wildly from side to side, or drift up and to one side. There are a handful of times that this technique manages to serve as an extension of Sarah’s intoxication or her fear and disorientation. At other times, it comes off as being “artsy” without purpose.
The conclusion to this film is very interesting. I’m not sure I buy it, but I like it.
Certainly recommended for anyone who is a fan of the on-screen talent.