Editor’s Note: This was originally published for FANGORIA on March 11, 2005, and we’re proud to share it as part of The Gingold Files.
Charles Starkweather won’t be the last serial killer to have a modern low-budget movie made about his exploits (Ulli Lommel alone has Zodiac Killer and Green River Killer and BTK flicks on the way), but the appearance of Starkweather on the video scene does bring the subgenre full circle, in a sense. Perhaps no other 20th-century multiple murderer has exerted such a hold on filmmakers’ imaginations, as he and girlfriend Caril Ann Fugate’s 1958 rampage has (as Velocity Home Entertainment has made sure to point out on its DVD packaging) inspired everything from Terrence Malick’s soulful Badlands to Oliver Stone’s aggressive Natural Born Killers, and plenty of other features in between. Starkweather attempts no such extrapolation or mythologization; it simply aims to dramatize its title character’s exploits, which is both an advantage and a liability. It avoids pretension, and glorification of the crimes, though it doesn’t have a great deal of dramatic weight.
Mostly, it serves as a showcase for two strong performances, by Brent Taylor as Starkweather and Shannon Lucio as Caril Ann. Both young actors effectively disappear into their roles, especially Lucio, who suggests a younger Jennifer Jason Leigh and gives Caril Ann the right mix of youthful romanticism and childish spite. Taylor convincingly portrays a disaffected young man too easily turned to violence, and aside from a moment where he holds his gun sideways like a gangsta, the two play believably “in period,” as well.
The late-’50s setting is nicely evoked on the film’s low budget, though director Byron Werner and scripter Stephen Johnston don’t make much of the fact that Starkweather represented a new kind of criminal for that age. Johnston’s just-the-facts approach meshes well with the straightforwardness of Werner’s visual storytelling, and the latter (a seasoned cinematographer who also filled that function here) has an eye for both attractive and menacing visuals. One of the only significant flourishes, a nightmare/newsreel sequence, ties in closely enough to Starkweather’s obsessions and psychosis that it doesn’t feel out of place. The device of having a dark figure (voiced by Lance Henriksen) encourage Starkweather to give in his violent impulses works well enough in terms of sustaining a mood of unease, though dramatically it feels like something of a shortcut, replacing a more thorough investigation of the personal demons that drove the young killer.
Werner’s skilled camerawork is well-served by Velocity’s 1.85:1 transfer, which bears attractive, realistic colors and deep nighttime blacks. Clarity is generally pretty good, with the image going soft and grainy on occasion but for the most part granting this low-cost production a thoroughly professional sheen. While the 5.1 audio isn’t especially expansive, in keeping with overall subdued approach, it sounds sharp and well-balanced. Extras include an EPK that, like most such miniproductions, is all sound bites and sentence fragments, more useful for introducing the movie than expanding one’s appreciation after viewing it. There are a couple of good moments, though, including a glimpse of Henriksen rerecording the “Mentor’s” dialogue.
Much more illuminating is a commentary by Werner and his editor, Karl T. Hirsch. There’s plenty of the expected technical discussion, yet there’s also a good deal of attention given the storytelling and especially the acting. Werner expresses true appreciation for his two leads, noting that, serving as his own camera operator, he was able to view their performances directly while shooting instead of watching them on a monitor, while Hirsch discusses shaping the characters in the editing room. Werner humbly notes the moments where the limited budget and means got the best of him, while Hirsch points out scenes where the director rose above them (like a hallway confrontation created out of pretty much nothing). One amusing detail they acknowledge is the repeated appearances on different characters of the same plaid jacket—which is only more noticeable given how vibrant its red is in this transfer.
The duo’s most interesting comments address the differences between the case’s facts and their semi-fiction, and the questions of how accurate of film need be to serve its subject. On that point, when Werner muses over the closing titles whether Caril Ann (who was paroled in 1976) might see his movie and what she’d think of it, one imagines she’d be rather flattered. As the filmmaker points out, she (and Starkweather too) wasn’t nearly as attractive in real life as she is on screen here.
