Psycho Therapy: The Shallow Tale Of A Writer Who Decided To Write About A Serial Killer

Bluesky

John Magaro is developing a good line in playing essentially sweet guys who get out of their depth and drawn into unlikely escapades. Steve Buscemi is, well, Steve Buscemi. Put them together and you’re guaranteed an offbeat kind of fun. Add the formidable Britt Lower (whose Darkest Miriam hits US cinemas in the same week) and this really ought to be something special. Somehow the mixture never quite catches fire, though it certainly generates sparks.

As those familiar with the work of Turkish director Tolga Karaçelik will expect, this is an indie film with a genuinely independent approach to narrative, despite beginning with the old argument that a writer needs to focus on what he knows. Suzie (Lower) genuinely doesn’t care what Keane (Magaro) writes; she just wants him to get on with it, after four years of relying on her income whilst telling all their friends about the great second novel he’s doing nothing to realise on the page. She’s embarrassed by him, exhausted, to the point where she might do something drastic. He doesn’t get it. When she finally talks about divorce, it comes out of the blue for him. The situation feels hopeless, until he realises that the fan who has been following him around – Buscemi’s Kollmick – might be able to help; until Kollmick explains that he’s a retired serial killer.

This already precarious situation takes a further twist when Keane, forced to come up with a hasty explanation for who Kollmick is, introduces him to Suzie as a marriage counsellor. The therapy sessions that follow are not the most successful part of the film, but do incorporate some nice observations, as well as giving us our first real hint that Suzie might be a more complex character than she seems. Meanwhile, Kollmick is trying to get Keane to connect with the serial killer experience by involving him in a kidnapping. Events, as they are wont to do, rapidly spiral out of control.

There is nothing flashy about any of this: no big dramatic soundtrack, relatively little gore. Karaçelik trusts his actors to do their thing, and they do not disappoint. It’s a low key blend of drama and farce balanced by the creepy unknowability of Buscemi’s character, whose real motive we can never quite be sure of as we watch Keane slipping further and further into his power.

The characters work well, with some nice supporting work from Nik Sadhnani as an unfortunate desk clerk, but there’s never quite enough energy to events. Things happen to people rather than because of people, and whilst a little of that is fine, it’s hard to believe that these complex individuals would exercise so little agency. This also robs the film’s ending of conviction. This feels like a distracting episode in the course of their lives rather than the life-changing experience that it should be.

For fans of the cast, there’s still a fair bit to enjoy, and Lower has the opportunity to show more range at a time when her career in ascendant. The film may also change the way you listen to a certain song. One just can’t see it making a killing at the box office.