Take a little bit of Boys Don't Cry and Raging Bull and add a pinch of Dead Man Walking and you get Monster, the wrenching film debut by writer-director Patty Jenkins. It depicts the serial killer Aileen Carol Wuornos during the 1980s, when she murdered seven men from Florida and was subsequently executed by the State. What results is a three-dimensional depiction of the woman and, although documentaries exist that chronicle the real-life personality, much of the events depicted come across as trustworthy and accurate.
In a highly-publicized career-making performance, Charlize Theron plays Aileen Wuornos, a wide-eyed woman with a checkered background. Her only acquaintance is a fellow homeless alcoholic (Bruce Dern), a generous fellow, but not in much better shape than she is. In a suicidal frame of mind, she opts for a drink before doing herself in and consequently ends up in a lesbian bar where she meets Selby (Christina Ricci, who matches Theron step-for-step; they play off each other perfectly), an insecure woman suffocating under her parents' smalltown, conservative grasp. Selby, who will eventually become Aileen's best friend, lover and family all in one, starts to become suspicious when her partner brings home money and new vehicles after each of her late night excursions. We discover that Wuornos has been offing her johns, beginning with a man who has raped and assaulted her.
Monster electrifyingly delves into the ghastly reasons that someone might commit such atrocities. Aileen's abusive upbringing and current way-of-life as a prostitute make her volatile and prone to impulsive behavior. She is even forced to kill a completely innocent family man because he inadvertently stumbles onto her dire situation. Wuornos can afford to have no witnesses (although, through the ironic machinations of the screenplay, she finds out in the very next scene the police are already onto her anyway). Her desperate breakdown at the 11th hour in regards to her deplorable actions seem to put us on the right track, but once she is nabbed by the authorities, she then lashes out in anger throughout her trial and shows none of the remorse that might help us to see her as something more than just a monster. We wonder where the remorse has disappeared to.
For this reason, as harrowing as the film is, it is not quite as balanced as, say, the aforementioned Dead Man Walking. Character studies of murderers need not always factor in all sides of the story, but Jenkins keeps the authorities, the victims and the legal proceedings so deeply pushed to the background they often seem like diversions. Nevertheless, what remains is the stuff of gripping cinema. Despite being set against the materialistic 80's (complete with acid-washed jeans for fashion and retro tunes in the background), the grim subject matter provides a jarring contrast that overall works very well. And the scenes that are meant to keep us on the edge of our seats do just that.
Perhaps one of the most interesting facets of the movie is how often Wuornos accidentally ran into the law throughout her killing spree. One cop calls upon Aileen to reciprocate a favour he had previously done for her on a hooking charge, another solicits her business and is then taken into the woods to meet his demise. These close calls not only serve to heighten dramatic tension and remind us that the law could be around any given corner, but more importantly they help to skew the lines of morality a bit more. The benificent police officers are -- aptly, might I add -- among the most deplorable figures in the movie. Had Jenkins worked more of these layers into the screenplay, the end result might be a bit stronger.
