Mindhunter | It's Bloggin Evil!

An Unearthed Classic Now Available on Blu-ray! “Confessions of a Serial Killer”

Daniel Ray Hawkins drives an unsettling, nomadic lifestyle as he travels across different parts of the country. With no money, no place to call home, and little friends, Hawkins lives a life of mostly solitude, odd jobs, and equally as strange as him acquaintances spurred from his childhood, shaped by his promiscuously prostitute mother and a war veteran disabled father who gruesomely took his own life, both of which displaying their iniquities right in front of him. Hawkins also lives a life of torture and murder, being one of the most prolific American serial killers ever of mostly young women. When caught by authorities, Hawkins is willing to confess to everything and help unearth bodies from over decades on the road to ensure families he’s stolen from receive some sliver of solace. His anecdotal accounts of individual disappearances and murders shock authorities to the core, so much so that Hawkins may just be unstable and not telling the truth. That is until he informs them of and leads them to the cached polaroids and decaying corpses.

Based on the American serial killer Henry Lee Lucas, who notoriously claims killing over 200 people has earned him a trio of film adaptations, at least, with “Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer,” directed by John McNaughton and starring Michael Rooker in the titular role, the subsequent lesser part II, and the more obscurely known Mark Blair written and directed production, “Confession of a Serial Killer.” Much like “Armageddon” and “Deep Impact,” or “End of Days” and “Stigmata,” both movies fall into the paradoxical twin film phenomena of sharing the same them and having both been released approx. within a year of each other. While “Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer” may have taken the top spot with a bigger budget played in more widespread venues, Blair’s rendition was released prior and closer to Lucas’s active killing spree that saw an end in 1983, just didn’t get released in America until a few years later to not duel with McNaughton’s film and thus didn’t succeed as much. The Cedarwood Productions film was produced by Cecyle Osgood Rexrode, distributed by Roger Corman and his company, Concorde Pictures.

While he was not the first choice for the titular character of Daniel Ray Hawkins, production designer, the late Robert A. Burns, filled in the sociopathic shoes with great monotonic conviction. Burns, who has ties as Art Director and makeup effects on some of the most iconic and seminal genre films, such as “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre,” “The Hills Have Eyes,” and “Tourist Trap,” matches the makings of an unempathetic, unsympathetic, natural born killer with a glazed deadpan austere and matter-a-fact knowledge and every evil committed. “Confessions of a Serial Killer” would not be as laced with depravity if Burns didn’t push the demented drugs to keep audiences hooked on overdosed deviancy. Not a tall or broadly muscular stature, curly outstretched and receding hair, scruffily unshaven with a consistent 5 o’clock shadow, and wide rimmed glasses, Daniel Ray Hawkins epitomizes the very essence of a creep and accentuates the behavior even further with his leisurely composure and straight-faced simplicity. Other side characters exist around Hawkins’ maniacal run with the bisexual Moon Lewton (Dennis Hill) and his sister Molly (Sidney Brammer), who marries the pansexual Hawkins out of necessity rather than sexual desire, and while Moon and Molly share Hawkins deranged apathy, they are completely overshadowed by the more controlling and interesting lead principal character due to half the murderous anecdotes are solo ran and all of the perception in the stories is through Hawkins’ recollection, giving him more power in the trio in perceptional self-interest, if Hawkins is capable of such consciousness. The cast fleshes out with lawmen and victims in Berkley Garrett, Ollie Handley, DeeDee Norton, Demp Toney, Eleese Lester, Colom L. Keating, and Lainie Frasier in the opening stranded motorist scene that sets up Hawkins diabolical reach in turning a car into a trap.

Bathed in realism, “Confessions of a Serial Killer” does not embellish with surrealistic temperament. The story never dives into Hawkins’ head to show any indication or any kind of visual mental degradation or reality breakage toward being a coldblooded killer. His violence is spartan, acidic, and raw to the bone, leaving a gritty taste in your mouth, with only a bleak childhood to blame for his adult obsessions to kill that he describes as necessary as breathing. Blair distills the story to a “Mindhunter’” episode in trying to understand the killer and recover skeletons from his past, literally, through rational and respect ways rather than boiler room beatings and power-tripping threats. Blair’s concept humanizes the inhuman and having Hawkins’s reminiscence each account is like recalling childhood memories with a smirk and fond remembrance splayed across his face adds another layer of iciness. Grounded by pedestrian scenarios, “Confessions of a Serial Killer” disrupts the routine, the familiar, and the unscripted ways we live our lives unconsciously to the fiends living among us that look like you or me. It’s a very palpable fear Blair conveys under the semi-biopic film. The director does eventually let loose the reigns in the final third act with a finale account of Hawkins, Moon, and Molly shacking up with an amiable doctor, his suspicious assistant, and his shapely young daughter that boils to a head when one bad decision leas to another.

For the first time on Blu-ray anywhere as a part of Unearthed Films’ Unearthed Classics sub-banner, “Confessions of a Serial Killer” receives a high-definition, 1080p release on an AVC encoded, single ring BD25. Higher contrast and a lesser diffusion to create a harsher, flatter color scheme, the intention is to fully base the story in reality as much as possible, to structure an abrasive look of grain and low lighting that parallels the seediness the tale touts. inspired from the facts of an American serial killer without having to fully give recognition to the actual killer. Shadows are key to Hawkins nightly runs, adding back-alley value to his viciousness, and the more lighter scenes, such as brighter-by-color interiors or day exteriors, are ample with natural grain that cut into the details but don’t necessarily knock them out entirely. With the lesser capacity disc, compression doesn’t appear to be an issue with no sign of macroblocking, banding, or posterization. The English language LCPM 2.0 mono possesses lo-fi aspects kept true to the original audio master. The dual-channel conduit amasses the layers mostly in the forefront without ascendancy in the environment, creating a flat approach, rendering the audio mostly fixed and depthless with the action creeping onto the dialogue, but this also adds the realism of a real world chaos where cacophony reigns. William Penn’s effectively, inlaid soundtrack has hallmarks of Wayne Bell and Tobe Hooper’s “Texas Chain Saw Massacre in the minor key with added notes of an otherworldly tune fork keyboard and lingering bass elements that’s just infests with the sounds of deceit and death, reminding me also a lot of a George A. Romero’s “Night of the Living Dead’s” atmospheric arrangement. English SDH are an available option. The collector’s edition contents include a commentary with director Mark Blair, aka John Dwyer, director of photography Layton Blacklock, and actor Sidney Brammer (Molly), The Henry Lee Lucas Story by author and former TV news reporter James Moore, and a full-lengthy documentary Rondo and Bob examines Robert Burns being the foremost expert on uniquely deformed actor Rondo Hatton as well as examines Burns’ own career, a polaroid gallery, promotional gallery, and the trailer. Displaying the iconic poster, a profit from rip of Hannibal Lector with a devilishly masked killer behind bars, Unearthed Films’ releases the stark image onto a planar cardboard slipcover. Same image is used from the standard Blu-ray Amaray case with no reverse side. Disc is pressed with a memorable and anxiety-filled chase scenes. There are no inserts material included. The region A encoded Blu-ray has a runtime of 107 minutes and is unrated.

Last Rites: One of the better biopics on U.S. serial killers even if a little bit of speculation and sensationalism increases the already verbose notoriety of one Henry Lee Lucas. Scary and bleak, “Confessions of a Serial Killer” continues to remind us that no one is safe from the everyday sociopath.

An Unearthed Classic Now Available on Blu-ray! “Confessions of a Serial Killer”

Over the span of 12 years from the 1970’s to the 1980’s, wannabe architect Jack is an accomplished engineer living in serene of the Pacific Northwest and with a lack of empathy and an internal repository of compulsive and narcissistic traits, Jack is able to be a highly successful and intelligent serial killer who seeks mastering his craft as highly artistic and divine. Over the same period of time while butchering nearly countless people, including his own family, Jack obsessive compulsive disorder not only assists his longevity of his creative expression, but also dwindles down another social expected goal of designing and engineering his own home isolated at the edge of a lake. As the body count rises, Jack compulsive restrictions loosen and he begins taking greater and greater risks of being caught. Jack narrates his voyage of viscera and macabre to a literary listener in a back-and-forth to explain and justify his murderous methods and craft.

Unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, auteur writer-director Lars Von Trier (“Antichrist” and Nymphomaniac Vol. 1 and 2″) crafts his very own artistic expression delineation with the 2018 “The House That Jack Built,” a two and half hour venture into the deconstruction of a serial killer’s personality traits as well as the flourishing experience of murder through years of repetitive brush stroke practice and self-preservation knowledge done in a self-portrait form. Graphically violent and supercharged with coarse and visually stimulating visual effects and editing, all the hallmarks of a Von Trier film, “The House That Jack Built” blends an abundance of fine arts with religion and mythology that develops into a soaring renaissance piece of art in the modern times and would inspire the most closeted psychopath to revel themselves in a heap of aesthetic and picturesque horror.

As if Matt Dillion isn’t already an entertaining and diverse actor, the “Wild Things” and “Crash” star excavates a vile and dumb luck Jack from deep within, crafting the character as so smart, he’s sometimes stupid, but with each murder subsequently gone scot-free, the confidence builds, the trade becomes tangible, and the narcism washes over ever so slightly. Dillion arcs Jack so well that the character no longer becomes the villain but an anti-hero of sorts as rooting for the slaughtering of innocents becomes a painful necessity rather than an empty desire. The titular character converses with a mysterious companion named Vergel in a way as if Jack was anecdotally telling his own biopic. Vergel symbols multiple conceptual and tangible beings, from Jack’s moral conscious to Vergil, the Augustan period Roman poet, Vergel, or Verge as Jack simple calls him, crudely interviews and thoroughly analyzes Jack’s so-called art. Verge’s off-screen presence is heartily brought to life by Bruno Ganz, an actor who once portrayed Adolf Hitler in 2004’s Academy Award nominated film, “Downfall.” Ganz takes an expected backseat to the title carrying Jack, but doesn’t succumb to being underneath’s Jack’s critical and narcissistic viewpoints, making Verge a level playing field character alongside Jack. Ganz, who passed earlier this year, is equally masterful under a relatively underwhelming role paired with pure evil and while the contrast’s magnitude should be starkly poignant, Jack and Verge are equals in the eye of the viewers and that’s how powerful Lars Von Trier’s filmmaking can really be. Jack’s chaptering stories include co-stars such as “Kill Bill’s” Uma Thurman, Siobhan Fallon Hogan (“Men in Black”), Sofie Gråbøl (“Nightwatch”), Riley Keough (“It Comes At Night”), Jeremy Davies (“Ravenous”), and David Bailie of “Pirates of the Caribbean” franchise.

In my experience with film from Lars Von Trier is that those who patron his films have polarizing affections; you either love his work or you absolutely loath his style of film. My experience consists of only one, yes one, of projects and that being “Antichrist,” and while I was not entirely enthralled with the film’s sexual themes, “The House That Jack Built” provided a plethora of philosophies to pick apart and to continue to digest even way after viewing. For those who might forego themes, philosophies, and theologies, many will bore themselves through the filmmaker’s American serial killer thriller for over two hours long, clocking in a 153 minutes, and finding themselves disoriented in a segmented tale that’s chaptered by five incidents and an epilogue over a 12 year span. Others will bang their hands over Trier’s use of repeat scenes, purposefully rolling them slow and in a calm disposition, allowing Jack to deliberate how and why he does what he does in his discussions with Verge, but these soft touches are nice pillow talk touches to the main, punchy action of Jack’s self imposed duresses under his murdering moniker, Mr. Sophistication, that palpably places the narcissistic cherry on top of misanthropic persona. The devil in the details are punchy themselves and a keystone to Trier’s overall narrative to explore the impulses of a killer’s mind. “The House That Jack Built” is a great accompaniment to shows like “Mindhunter” on Netflix or other films like “Silence of the Lambs” where serial killers vocalizes intricacies of their niche trade is very fascinating for morbid loving sympathizers.

Umbrella Entertainment releases “The House That Jack Built” onto Blu-ray home video. The full HD, 1080p, region B, uncut disc is presented in a widescreen, 2.35:1 aspect ratio, and is fully operational in all sense of the phrase with a generous color palate lacing through more natural lighting than assumed there would be in comparison to “Antichrist,” but the raw tone by Manuel Alberto Claro debases the stylized techniques of “Antichrist’s” Anthony Dod Mantle to virtually a hardline and graphic depiction of reality in the 1970’s. The English language 5.1 DTS-HD Master Audio is respectfully verbose and robust. Trier’s loquacious exposition is actually great exposition of the crystal clear kind and the director shows off his depth and range, splicing edits together like a madman that still convey the overall theme without disregarding audio accounts. While technically sound, the Umbrella release comes regretfully with no bonus features. Brilliant, musing, and intense, “The House That Jack Built” is a Lars Von Trier legacy film breathed with unadulterated violence and sharp with superb writing potent that’s potent on every level. Trier just gets better and better with every film and look forward to his next project!