InRO Weekly — Volume 1, Issue 11

FILM REVIEWS
is instead found within the characters’ frequently shifting
natures; this is a blockbuster fueled entirely by clever character
dynamics. We trade combat for wordplay, battle for palace
intrigue, and yet it all seems to induce the same sense of
exhilaration as those earlier, grander action epics. Of course,
Zhang is always interested in something more than the simple
mechanics of structure, but the hyperfocus on narrative here —
generally speaking, he is one of our modern masters of “plot” —
works in a manner that simultaneously elevates the form and the
content at once. Zhang’s major target here seems to be the
illusions which allow for the functioning of a cultural hegemony
within a basic society, an idea that could have become dense or
confounding, but is instead, when packaged in a film like this,
not just intellectually accessible — it’s thrillingly entertaining. —
NEIL BAHADUR
DIRECTOR: Zhang Yimou; CAST: Shen Teng, Jackson Yee, Zhang
Yi; DISTRIBUTOR: Niu VIsion Media/Beyond Events; IN
THEATERS: March 17; RUNTIME: 2 hr. 39 min.
BOSTON STRANGLER
Matt Ruskin
A boogeyman from a time that predates 24-hour news cycles,
podcasts, and true crime docuseries, the Boston Strangler
represents something of an unsolvable problem for filmmakers.
Terrorizing Boston from 1962 until early 1964, the Strangler was a
prowler who sexually assaulted and murdered thirteen women,
asphyxiating them with their own garments after talking his way
into their homes by pretending to be a handyman. The salacious
details, as well as the fact that the victims invited their killer
inside, cast a pall over a city already prone to distrust and
provincialism until the murders stopped with the arrest of career
criminal Albert DeSalvo. But DeSalvo was and remains an
unsatisfying conclusion to the story: a mentally ill sex offender
already in police custody at the time he was fingered as the
Stangler — for what was, at the time, deemed an unrelated
assault charge — DeSalvo confessed to all thirteen murders but,
controversially, never faced prosecution for them and later
recanted his confession. That, along with his poor recollection of
crime scene details, has led to various theories over the years
that he may not have been responsible for all of the murders
(only exacerbated by his own jailhouse murder in 1973 by an
associate of the Winter Hill Gang). Filmmaker Matt Ruskin’s new
film, Boston Strangler, shares that skepticism and uses the film
as a means of questioning the official story. But it’s stymied by
the facts of the case, which lack any obvious heroes or especially
compelling advancements in the investigation. Here, as in real
life, the absence of any sort of forward momentum creates a
vacuum which is only filled by wild speculation.
Perhaps recognizing that the Strangler case didn’t cover law
enforcement in glory, the film presents the story from the
perspective of real-life Record American reporter Loretta
McLaughlin (Keira Knightley), an ambitious journalist whose
talents are wasted reviewing toasters for puff pieces meant forh
ousewives. Loretta longs for the kind of impactful assignments
that her colleague, the no-nonsense Jean Cole (Carrie Coon),
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