Review: The Minus Man

Owen Wilson plays Vann, a serial killer with a special line in poisoning his victims. He drifts into a small, rather melancholic town, renting a room from Mercedes Ruehl’s Jane, and strikes up a friendship with her unstable husband Doug (Brian Cox). Doug gets him a gig working for the local post-office, where he meets the lonely, open-faced Ferrin (Janeane Garofalo), who immediately latches herself onto Vann. She might just regret that. Dwight Yoakam and Dennis Haysbert have bizarro roles as two detectives who actually seem like figments of Vann’s imagination, who act like his conscience, and project all of the remorse, guilt, and fear of getting caught that the outwardly cool Vann seems incapable of. Eric Mabius and Sheryl Crow play two of Vann’s victims, whilst John Carroll Lynch plays a bartender.

 

A terrific dramatic performance by Owen Wilson and an overall sense of melancholia are the highlights of this interesting 1999 mood/character piece from writer-director Hampton Fancher (screenwriter of “Blade Runner”, of all things). It’s just a shame that, for all of its qualities, this adaptation of a novel by Lew McCreary ultimately doesn’t quite hang together. It’s also a bit of a shame that Fancher hasn’t directed a film since this, his debut directing venture, because...it’s got something. Not all films have something, and this one does, so it’s not such a bad thing that it ultimately lacks in a few areas. Wilson, instead of playing the likeable goofball, plays a blandly charming yet entirely soulless serial killer in one of the more effective cases of casting against type you’re likely to see. It’s a unique characterisation, kind of a low-key Ted Bundy...but with an ugly broken nose, and it might also remind you of TV’s highly addictive “Dexter”, about another serial killer you struggle to actually hate. And here’s a guy who has gone ‘postal’ before joining the postal service. It makes one wonder what the remake of “Psycho” would’ve been like with Owen Wilson as Norman Bates instead of Vince Vaughn. Yes, it’s kind of an elusive performance, but that’s as it should be. He’s a sociopath for cryin’ out loud, though for much of the film he’s a rather disarmingly affable one (in his voiceover, he seems to comment on other characters’ behaviour in a way that suggests he’s genuinely surprised by it, as though it’s not something he quite comprehends) so that when he finally does act out towards one of the characters, it’s a complete shock to them, if not entirely a shock to us (After all, we already know he’s a serial killer). But at no other point in the film do we see him really act out in any kind of overtly violent way, as poisoning is his preferred method of killing and is rather quiet and painless. His blandness and unassuming demeanour (he’s not nearly as alarmingly nuts as say, David Berkowitz) make him so invisible almost, that he’s able to waltz into this town, set up camp and go about killing people completely unnoticed. The other reason why he’s able to do this is because of the townsfolk themselves.

 

Some of the performances, especially Mercedes Ruehl’s, are a bit too mumbly, but there’s a sense that the whole town is depressed or at least deeply, deeply melancholic. With a town full of manic depressives like the one Brian Cox plays, they seem ripe for the picking by a serial killer who seems to target lost souls (lost souls seem to gravitate towards him, so whether it’s a specific plan or something more opportunistic, is up to the viewer I guess). With everyone so catatonically depressed and lonely, he can just go about his business. You really worry about the supporting characters in this, including an effective early cameo by the normally annoying Sheryl Crow, as a rather sad alcoholic. However, it’s Janeane Garofalo who will earn most of your sympathy. Remember when Garofalo was less rant-y and tattooed, and could actually, y’know, smile every now and then? She’s really appealing in this, and you definitely worry for her because she has absolutely no idea what she’s getting herself into.

 

And then it ends on a note that...just won’t do. I understand the intent of the ending, but I just think it’s the wrong note to end the film on, feeling as though Fancher ran out of money or something. Still, whether it’s an overall success or a near-miss, there’s no doubting that it’s an interesting, quietly creepy film, and if ever you’ve doubted Owen Wilson as an actor, you need to see this film. It’s an offbeat cult item worth a look.

 

Rating: B-