Confesiones de un asesino

Please note: I wrote the following comment after watching the R2 UK DVD release, which I have since learnt is heavily edited, with the complete removal of graphic violence (including rape scenes), a heavily cropped nude shower scene, and even lowered volume whenever swearing occurs. Since I abhor such censorship, I refuse to give a rating until I have had a chance to see the whole thing as originally intended by the film-makers, and remind you that all remarks I have made apply only to the butchered UK version.

Rule number one according to 'BA_Harrison's Indispensible Guide to Blind-Buying Horror Films': beware of DVDs bearing glowing quotes from IMDb users (unless you know for a fact that they were written by me): chances are the film isn't the masterpiece it purports to be.

Confessions of a Serial Killer has two such enthusiastic quotes on its cover (plus a rather cheesy picture of a loony in a Hannibal Lector style mask that never actually appears in the film), and although it's definitely not the worst film I've ever seen (which would be a mighty achievement in itself), I wouldn't describe it as 'an excellent, shocking movie' or 'gruesome and compelling' either.

Shooting on grainy 16mm film, first time (and only time) director Mark Blair effectively captures that grimy vibe synonymous with the nastier, grittier serial killer flicks; he also commands some credible performances from his cast of unknowns, and displays a certain amount of know-how behind the camera. However, despite these admirable qualities, Confessions of a Serial Killer fails to satisfy thanks to a somewhat leaden pacing, a tendency by Blair to be rather careless with his narrative (some silly moves are made by both victims and assailants), but most noticeably, a refusal to get really down and dirty when necessary.

Presented as a series of flashbacks, the murderous activities of psycho Daniel Ray Hawkins (Robert A. Burns) and evil siblings Moon and Molly Lewton (Dennis Hill and Sidney Brammer) are frustratingly bland, never entering the truly shocking territory inhabited by similarly themed classics such as Henry Portrait of a Serial Killer and Maniac: the film shies away from depicting the actual murders, preferring instead to let the audience to use their imagination—which is fine some of the time, but not for every bloody (or rather, unbloody) scene.

A shame, because with some in your face brutality, this could have been the exception that proves my IMDb rule.

This is a perfect little movie in its way, succeeding as a voyeuristic experience from start to finish with just the right balance of banality, surprise, horror, disgust and curiosity-arousal & satisfaction. Like watching the seamier part of life through a perpetual keyhole. The art is in the actors & director never giving the appearance of "artfulness". Bravo!!!

When HBO hit bottom several years ago, they played bad movies over and over again because it was all their budget could afford. They have since reformed, but at the time they showed this, um, manure so many times a day I actually removed HBO and Cinemax (they were sold as a package then) from my cable subscription.

Everything about this movie, from the "acting", directing and script is the worst you will find outside Manos: the Hands of Fate. The movie is depressing in the extreme; take a repellent character, have him confess to a long list of random murders in "flashbacks" (relayed to stone-faced deputies wearing a little too much makeup), add in lots of helpless victims and sadism, and you have this movie. It almost appears to be a booster film for would-be serial killers; the characters, slack-jawed and stupid though they are, are presented as invincible, getting away with every sadistic killing they commit, with the editing showing the victims *just* missing the chance to escape or scream for help. It's hard to tell who is more sadistic, the characters, the editors, the film-makers, or the agitated viewers who wrote glowing reports over this trash. I thought it was the film-makers until I read these reviews. Scary. There is a 2000 year-old Greek adage which translate to "garbage feeds on garbage." I didn't understand it when younger, but it is starting to make sense to me now.

This movie does not enlighten, it only dehumanizes and desensitizes.

Avoid this movie unless you never go outside, have no normal friends, and enjoy the suffering of others. One star.

This movie is one of the most realistic and scariest movies that I have ever seen. It is about the real life killer named Henry Lee Lucas and his sidekick Otis Toole. When I watched this movie I felt as if I were there because the acting was good and the way that the movie was made it looked very much real. The scenes in this movie were disturbing because these things could actually happen in real life done in these sick ways. It was chilling and being a reader of such serial killers such as this man here made it all the more horrific. I give it an 8.

This brilliant, unsettling film was glossed over in favor of the higher profile maelstrom of ratings controversy, "Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer." That's a shame, because, like John McNaughton's brilliant low budget film, Mark Blair's "Confessions" is extremely well made, has an emphasis on documentary-like distance over horror movie theatrics, and some wonderfully seedy and intense characterizations. Genre addicts disappointed by "Henry" will be pleased by this film which "delivers the goods" in spades. Veteran genre production designer ("Texas Chainsaw Massacre" and "Re-Animator") Robert A. Burns steps in front of the camera as "Confessions'" Henry Lee Lucas substitute, Daniel Ray Hawkins. Nondescript and passive, a captured Hawkins relates the murderous swath he cut across the rural South to skeptical cops in a series of flashbacks that include his abusive childhood, his routine of picking up female hitchhikers, home invasions, and quick stop holdups turned bloodbaths, all documented via his trusty Polaroid camera. Closer to the actual events than "Henry," "Confessions" gives us a substitute Ottis Toole in the form of "Ole Moon," Daniel's partner in slime, an overweight homosexual serial killer who brings along his equally deranged sister for the ride. Although the last act is a tad anticlimatic and the secondary characters' performances are sometimes uneven, but this is an excellent, shocking movie. Like "Henry," it was shot on 16mm by local filmmakers, sat on the shelf for many years, has many similarities in tone and style, and was snatched up to capitalize on the success of a certain Jonathan Demme film when serial killers were hot stuff. Concorde even whipped up ad art with a guy in a Hannibal Lector mask! Aided immeasurably by a creepy synth score by William Penn and solidly directed by Blair, don't watch this one alone.

8/10