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A Sony release. Directed by Nick Broomfield. Released to DVD on June 1, 2004.
The best way—and frankly the only way—to begin answering the question of why someone should want to view this movie is to ask another question. Does the post-serial killing life of infamous female serial killer Aileen Wuornos, the subject of director Patty Jenkins’ film Monster, hold an inherent interest to you?
Reducing the review of this film to this question feels cheap to me. It effectively takes the onus of this review off of me and puts it onto you, the reader. I have failed to express my opinion of Aileen and failed to answer the question that I am getting paid to answer. I generally loathe critics and other persons who resort to using simple comparisons and questions to make their points for them. Such methods quickly lead to statements (and recommendations) as follows: If you liked John Travolta in The General’s Daughter, you’ll love The Punisher or If you like action, you’ll love The Chronicles of Riddick. Using assessments such as these instead of actually delving into the project at hand and critiquing it on its own merits are the tell of an inexperienced or lazy critic. Which is precisely why I adamantly refrain from engaging in this type of criticism. In the case of Aileen though, it is simply unavoidable.
When I screened Monster, I was amazed at the way Jenkins took pains to portray Wuornos as a human being. I was equally amazed at the amount of flak Jenkins received from the press and from the families of Wuornos’ actual victims for her decision not to turn Wuornos’ character into a fire-breathing, superhuman, cannibal serial killer. Charlize Theron won the Oscar for her performance as Wuornos precisely because of the humanity she instilled in the character.
Sadly, Wuornos’ story isn’t all that noteworthy in contemporary America. She was beaten as a child, abused, pregnant by thirteen and on her own by sixteen. Hers was a terrible childhood, but something that tens of thousands of other Americans suffer through on a daily basis. Wuornos’ life took another turn for the worse when, working as a prostitute, she began to kill her johns. Wuornos quickly received her fifteen minutes of fame as America’s first well publicized female serial killer. Lost in the mystery and media/Hollywood treatment of Wuornos’ life and times was the fact that she was mentally unstable. Not the pathological dementia of Jeffrey Dahmer, or the suicidal nature of Andrew Cunaan, but a manic personality made worse by the extreme swings she experienced from her untreated bi-polar disorder. In Wuornos’ last words before her execution, she spoke of being taken back to the mothership and discussed her impending Jesus-like return to Earth. She even managed to throw in a reference to the movie Independence Day and its aliens. In short, Wuornos was certifiably insane to everyone, with the notable exception of the state of Florida where she was deemed sane. Three times.
Aileen is the series of conversations Broomfield held with Wuornos while she was on death row and recorded events of Wuornos’ last set of appeals. There is a slight Stevie-like sub-plot involving Broomfield’s involvement in Wuornos’ defense but dealt with so briefly and infrequently it doesn’t really bear mentioning as a plot strand. After being cooped up in isolation on death row for a number of years, Wuornos’ mental capacities have dwindled considerably since her sentencing.
Here, her rantings and ravings take center stage. Broomfield trains his camera on Wuornos and lets her talk, for better or worse. The result is something akin to watching a train wreck. Wuornos tackles a variety of topics that she has no business touching and talks at length about her poor treatment at the hands of her lawyers and the state of Florida. She steadfastly maintains her innocence—in the form of self-defense—for all of the murders and is not particularly apologetic for any of her behavior. Then, later, she steadfastly maintains her guilt. She killed her johns for their money. When Broomfield asks her to explain the discrepancy in her statements, Wuornos goes off on yet another tangent.
I cannot imagine anyone purposely subjecting themselves to a documentary about the opinions of an unkempt serial killer who is starring the death penalty in the face, but such is what Broomfield gives audiences in Aileen. The filmmaking techniques employed here are minimal at best—it’s the type of project that isn’t affected at all by its cinematography or its digital look. Much like Monster, the appeal of Aileen is the film’s subject matter. An informative project at best, the defining question surrounding this project is whether or not there is much audience interest in watching the uncomfortable and paranoid theorizing of an unstable female serial killer. Judging from the number of people who made the effort to see Aileen during its theatrical run, the answer is no.
chris neumer yes, it's true: Aileen Wuornos was born on February 29, a leap year day. |
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Ultimately, the question a film critic wants to address in his reviews is why a reader should (or should not) want to view a given project.