Review #602: 'The Driller Killer' (1979)

When looking at Abel Ferrara's entire body of work, his feature debut (aside from his dabble in porn - 9 Lives of a Wet Pussy (1976)), The Driller Killer, has many of the same themes theme that run throughout his filmography. In a urban, decaying setting, a central character flourishes while simultaneously destroying themselves in the process, physically and/or mentally. Here, artist Reno (Ferrara himself, credited as Jimmy Laine) undergoes a psychological decline brought on by bill and rent troubles, a demanding boss, the loud punk rock band next door, and the depressing, crime-filled area that he lives. After seeing an advert for an electric drill on the television, Reno begins a killing spree, mainly targeting the homeless and drunk.

Whereas the likes of King of New York (1990) and Bad Lieutenant (1992), two of Ferrara's finest achievements, maintained this feeling of grime and general street filth, they were helmed by a far more experienced director, and were anchored by Christopher Walken and Harvey Keitel, two of the finest American actors of their generation. The Driller Killer never manages to crawl out of its bargain-basement Taxi Driver (1977) credentials, filmed by a director seemingly more concerned with controversy than creating a serious picture. In fairness, the gore levels are relatively low and features only one scene of full-on blood-shedding - being the iconic moment depicted on the cover that caused so many Daily Mail readers to blow their top in the 1980's video nasty debacle - but it's just so bloody tedious.

Ferrara cannot act, but he certainly looks the part. He's always been a strange character in the movie business, which is one of the main reasons why the bulk of his later films are so intriguing. His near-supernatural ugliness and strange mannerisms made me believe that there could be something genuinely wrong with him, that helps to add at least of bit of weight to the film. Yet his screen-time is oddly limited, and the attention frequently shifts to the No Wave punk band The Roosters, who seem to practice endlessly, spout lyrical nonsense, and behave even more bizarrely than Reno. Is this shift of focus Ferrara's way to juxtapose Reno's mental decline with the rise of the New York punk movement, intertwining them somehow? Well, no. You know a film is in trouble when repetitive music scenes primarily there as a diversion is more interesting than the central story of a man drilling into people's skulls with a power tool.

The Driller Killer was single-handedly responsible for the video nasties list, so I guess we can 'thank' it for that. Although the films on the list are generally terrible, it created an interesting little story in recent cinema history, and helped save a few titles from absolute obscurity. It's certainly far from the worst nasty on the list (for me, Snuff (1976) holds that title), and is an embarrassing reminder of the nation's reaction to the scaremongering of the 80's, given the film's lack of gore and unconvincing effects. Ferrara would flourish in the 90's, so we all know what he is capable of and how much better this film could have been, but this is repulsive, amateurish film-making.


Directed by: Abel Ferrara
Starring: Abel Ferrara, Carolyn Marz, Baybi Day
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie