Who remembers the horrific Beltway sniper shootings which left 10 dead and 3 seriously wounded in the Washington, D.C. area in 2002? I remember a friend of mine who lived in Maryland telling me how he was afraid to leave his house at the time. Was it really necessary to bring back up all the horrible memories? The American-based, French director, Alexandre Moors certainly thought so.
Moors' approach is to explore the relationship between the two killers, the adult John Allen Muhammed and his teenage partner in crime, Lee Boyd Malvo, avoiding any sensationalistic aspects of the shooting spree. That's a good thing, because what is the point of rehashing such tragic events that brought so much grief to the families of the innocent victims? Moors approach is psychological. But is there enough meat to the story to keep us interested and perhaps gain insight into what drove these psychopaths, to do what they did?
In Moors' narrative, Malvo is abandoned by his mother in Antigua where Muhammed just happens to be vacationing with his young daughters. Muhammed saves Malvo from drowning in the ocean and they quickly bond. The only problem is that Muhammed never saved Malvo and it was both the teenager and his mother who met Muhammed and she left him in his care. So the angle that Malvo bonded with Muhammed because he owed him his life, does not hold any weight.
After Muhammed brings Malvo back with him to the United States, we basically figure out what motivates Muhammed in about a half hour time. Most of those involved in law enforcement will tell you that the most dangerous type of criminal is the one who commits crimes of domestic violence. Indeed, it's Muhammed's loss of his children in a custody battle, that leads him to become extremely bitter and later paranoid. Finally, in Muhammed's deranged mind, it's the 'system' that is to blame; so taking lives methodically (and not randomly as the psycho killer puts it) is the name of the game. That's really all you have to know what Muhammed's motivations were and Moors has his anti-hero express those sentiments throughout the rest of the film.
Malvo on the other hand comes off as an empty vessel; a follower who utters few words. Muhammed boasts that "I've created a monster", referring to his young charge, who he now dubs his "son". It's not surprising this zombie-like kid would do the older man's bidding—when they're living with Muhammed's old Army buddy, Ray, a rabid gun nut, Malvo gains access to an entire arsenal of weaponry. Tutored on violent video games and actual target practice, Malvo becomes a crack marksman and later does the paranoid killer's bidding. There's one semi-violent scene where Muhammed ties Malvo to a tree in the forest and abandons him there, in an act of 'tough love'—expecting the teenager to toughen up, so he's ready to enthusiastically become a cold-blooded sniper.
Moors' treatment of the Beltway snipers is antiseptic. We never learn who the victims were nor experience the anguish of the families. Instead, 'Blue Caprice' is a beautifully shot, 'art' film. Moors seeks to illustrate what the concept of 'the banality of evil' is all about; but it's a slow tour through the wasteland. Ultimately, the killers' machinations are mundane—and inconsequential. Moors deprives his audience of the satisfaction as to how Muhammed and Malvo were captured and processed by the authorities (a routine police patrol check in a parking lot only suggests that this is where M&M reached the end of the line). And the most interesting information about the man-boy relationship is left out entirely: the assertion after Malvo's conviction, that he was sexually abused by the older man (see the Musical 'Thrill Me', which chronicles the gay affair between the two 1920s thrill killers, "Leopold and Loeb"—the author there was not afraid to explore the homosexual relationship between the two men).
Alexandre Moors is not without talent—usually with many of these neophyte filmmakers, it's in the realm of technical wizardly, as opposed to acumen with the script. Yes, 'Blue Caprice' has some mighty impressive cinematography and the two principals who play the killers, Isaiah Washington and Tequan Richmond, are completely believable as the brutal Muhammed and stone-cold Malvo.
In the end, the best word to describe Moors' examination of the Beltway snipers, is opaque. In perhaps better hands, this could have been a gripping crime story. But something also tells me that this was a story that does not really lend itself to good drama. 'Blue Caprice' is one such example that is better left to the history books than to the silver screen.
Moors' approach is to explore the relationship between the two killers, the adult John Allen Muhammed and his teenage partner in crime, Lee Boyd Malvo, avoiding any sensationalistic aspects of the shooting spree. That's a good thing, because what is the point of rehashing such tragic events that brought so much grief to the families of the innocent victims? Moors approach is psychological. But is there enough meat to the story to keep us interested and perhaps gain insight into what drove these psychopaths, to do what they did?
In Moors' narrative, Malvo is abandoned by his mother in Antigua where Muhammed just happens to be vacationing with his young daughters. Muhammed saves Malvo from drowning in the ocean and they quickly bond. The only problem is that Muhammed never saved Malvo and it was both the teenager and his mother who met Muhammed and she left him in his care. So the angle that Malvo bonded with Muhammed because he owed him his life, does not hold any weight.
After Muhammed brings Malvo back with him to the United States, we basically figure out what motivates Muhammed in about a half hour time. Most of those involved in law enforcement will tell you that the most dangerous type of criminal is the one who commits crimes of domestic violence. Indeed, it's Muhammed's loss of his children in a custody battle, that leads him to become extremely bitter and later paranoid. Finally, in Muhammed's deranged mind, it's the 'system' that is to blame; so taking lives methodically (and not randomly as the psycho killer puts it) is the name of the game. That's really all you have to know what Muhammed's motivations were and Moors has his anti-hero express those sentiments throughout the rest of the film.
Malvo on the other hand comes off as an empty vessel; a follower who utters few words. Muhammed boasts that "I've created a monster", referring to his young charge, who he now dubs his "son". It's not surprising this zombie-like kid would do the older man's bidding—when they're living with Muhammed's old Army buddy, Ray, a rabid gun nut, Malvo gains access to an entire arsenal of weaponry. Tutored on violent video games and actual target practice, Malvo becomes a crack marksman and later does the paranoid killer's bidding. There's one semi-violent scene where Muhammed ties Malvo to a tree in the forest and abandons him there, in an act of 'tough love'—expecting the teenager to toughen up, so he's ready to enthusiastically become a cold-blooded sniper.
Moors' treatment of the Beltway snipers is antiseptic. We never learn who the victims were nor experience the anguish of the families. Instead, 'Blue Caprice' is a beautifully shot, 'art' film. Moors seeks to illustrate what the concept of 'the banality of evil' is all about; but it's a slow tour through the wasteland. Ultimately, the killers' machinations are mundane—and inconsequential. Moors deprives his audience of the satisfaction as to how Muhammed and Malvo were captured and processed by the authorities (a routine police patrol check in a parking lot only suggests that this is where M&M reached the end of the line). And the most interesting information about the man-boy relationship is left out entirely: the assertion after Malvo's conviction, that he was sexually abused by the older man (see the Musical 'Thrill Me', which chronicles the gay affair between the two 1920s thrill killers, "Leopold and Loeb"—the author there was not afraid to explore the homosexual relationship between the two men).
Alexandre Moors is not without talent—usually with many of these neophyte filmmakers, it's in the realm of technical wizardly, as opposed to acumen with the script. Yes, 'Blue Caprice' has some mighty impressive cinematography and the two principals who play the killers, Isaiah Washington and Tequan Richmond, are completely believable as the brutal Muhammed and stone-cold Malvo.
In the end, the best word to describe Moors' examination of the Beltway snipers, is opaque. In perhaps better hands, this could have been a gripping crime story. But something also tells me that this was a story that does not really lend itself to good drama. 'Blue Caprice' is one such example that is better left to the history books than to the silver screen.