A lurching, zigzag tale of serial murder, killer
apprenticeship, malevolent reverence and cat-and-mouse investigation, Kevin
Costner’s
Mr. Brooks puts a
deliciously warped spin on what are by now many prim and proper thriller
conventions.
A throwback to a certain breed of wildly plot-driven thrillers
from the 1980s, the film surfs along on its own crest of rising ridiculousness
before slowly — and somewhat surprisingly — becoming
something a bit more
interesting than it’s able to convincingly sell in its single-hook television
ads and marketing campaign.
Costner stars as Earl Brooks, an extremely successful and
highly regarded
Portland businessman
whose family life masks a habit for serial murder urged on by his gum-chewing,
murderous id, “Marshall” (William Hurt). Glimpsed by a peeping Tom photographer
(Dane Cook) who plies him with a bizarre blackmail demand, Brooks accedes to the
request, perhaps taking up a protégé or perhaps biding his time before erasing
all of the incriminating evidence, and then the interloper himself. Against
this backdrop of uneasy partnership, Brooks’ daughter returns home from college
with a secret, and Brooks also takes an interest in the detective (Demi Moore)
attempting to catch him, working to erase an escaped killer convict who is stalking
her.
If elements of the movie’s execution are very occasionally
derisible, Mr. Brooks makes up for it
with sheer narrative audaciousness, spinning to its benefit the advantage of
genuine surprise (both good and bad) and arriving, comfortably in its own skin,
at a final resting point more wildly entertaining than good. It may be hooey, in other words, but it's inventive and sugary sweet.
Scripted by director Bruce A Evans (Kuffs) with writing partner Raynold Gideon (Stand By Me), Mr. Brooks
is full of feints, but also, and more notably, bold choices. In a market full
of more slickly crafted movies that make safe selections, that has to count for
something. For the full review, from Screen International, click here.
