this is a curious movie. but i should have known how curious it could be when i see the name werner herzog and it was produced than none other the master of wierdness, famed director david lynch. to be fair, i haven't watch a lot of herzog's work. i decided to watch this movie because i was taken with micheal shannon's acting and wanted to see more of him. when i browsed through his filmography, i was surprised with the number of films he had done and i have watched but nonetheless did not see him. he is the ultimate everyday man, he is there everywhere, blending with the environment, that he is not seen.
this movie though, has a curious way of telling its story. it started like any regular cop movie, and then it started to go haywire. it was as if the movie (rather, the director) is saying, fuck off to all known cop movie formulas out there. i am sick of people expecting i do what i should do, so let it rip.
it is a story of suburban hell, of too much fake happiness that homeowners had to paint pink flamingos on their wall. it's weird, when a mother smothers her grown up son with too much affection that she has to give them cookies when he is about to sleep with his girlfriend. shannon's character had probably been unstable for a long time, waiting for the ripe time to explode. it is wierd (again), that his mother, his girlfriend, his neighbours, his theater instructor, his friends - none of them see how mentally fragile he is, perhaps the real danger lies in basking in too much imagined solace that they failed to see a ticking time bomb, living right across the street.
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