The quiet little town with a seedy, sinister underbelly is nothing new. It's been done to death, from the earliest examples of the dramatic subgenre to post-modern masterworks like David Lynch's Blue Velvet. When a sleepy hamlet explodes in heretofore unheard-of violence, it's not a revelation, but a given. Still, something solid can be built out of the otherwise ordinary narrative contrivance, as proved by the excellent Canadian thriller Small Town Murder Songs. From the evocative landscape and communal backdrop to the on point performances, we may have seen this all before, just not in the way this engaging movie presents it.
Walter (Peter Stormare) is a hulking police officer in Greyforks, Ontario, a heavily religious community - mostly Mennonite - where crime is almost unheard...murder, even more so. So when the body of a stripper shows up along a highway embankment near town, it brings into focus many of the town's worst fears. Some of them are directed right at Walter. Now Born Again, he has a violent past which cost him his family, his place among the people, and perhaps most importantly, his girlfriend Rita (Jill Hennessey). When the clues lead back to his former lover and her new, nasty boyfriend, Walter must make a decision. Protect her and ruin his relationship with new gal pal Sam (Martha Plimpton) and his partner in law enforcement Sebastian (Aaron Poole), or tap into that always simmer rage to uncover the criminal responsible.
Like a character study crafted out of Bible verses and backwoods folklore, Small Town Murder Songs echoes across its sparse Canadian vistas with the power of a deadly, desperate animal's chilling cry. Oddly enough, the murder mystery often plays an equally uneasy second place to the ins and outs of the various individuals populating this tale. Religion is a major component of this rural microcosm. It offers the requisite redemption everyone demands without providing the presumed calm and collective reflection everything needs. Instead, it's a shield, a cover used by Walter to wipe out his previous reputation while the rest of the town takes it as a guilt-free badge of honor.
Combining the clash between these two elements with the Twin Peaks-esque event at the core lifts Small Town Murder Songs above the formulaic fray. It allows actors like Plimpton and Poole to stretch out and be heard, while keeping someone like Stormare in check. As the center of this story, the Coen Brothers (Fargo, The Big Lebowski) favorite must handle the difficult task of having everything arrive at his doorstep without letting the audience all the way into his complex personal portico. With his wry moustache and obvious accent, he comes across as the perfect enigma, someone you'll never get to know completely, but know enough to avoid and/or embrace.
For his part, writer/director Ed Gass-Donnelly delivers on the promise of both his provocative setting and his equally challenging cast. The camera catches the locale in a constant state of twilight, the chilly isolation underlying the closed-off nature of the characters. Similarly, the use of an ethereal, choir based score constantly reminds us of the dogmatic deceptions circling around the circumstances. Indeed, the big picture message offered by Small Town Murder Songs is that, for the most part, salvation doesn't come from a God or a lifestyle structured from same. Instead, it's the standard Pilgrim's Progress, a walk between the edges of good and evil (and the occasional indulgence in same) to truly see the light...be it the truth of who you really are, or the identity of a cold blooded killer. In this case, the distinction may not be that great.
Walter (Peter Stormare) is a hulking police officer in Greyforks, Ontario, a heavily religious community - mostly Mennonite - where crime is almost unheard...murder, even more so. So when the body of a stripper shows up along a highway embankment near town, it brings into focus many of the town's worst fears. Some of them are directed right at Walter. Now Born Again, he has a violent past which cost him his family, his place among the people, and perhaps most importantly, his girlfriend Rita (Jill Hennessey). When the clues lead back to his former lover and her new, nasty boyfriend, Walter must make a decision. Protect her and ruin his relationship with new gal pal Sam (Martha Plimpton) and his partner in law enforcement Sebastian (Aaron Poole), or tap into that always simmer rage to uncover the criminal responsible.
Like a character study crafted out of Bible verses and backwoods folklore, Small Town Murder Songs echoes across its sparse Canadian vistas with the power of a deadly, desperate animal's chilling cry. Oddly enough, the murder mystery often plays an equally uneasy second place to the ins and outs of the various individuals populating this tale. Religion is a major component of this rural microcosm. It offers the requisite redemption everyone demands without providing the presumed calm and collective reflection everything needs. Instead, it's a shield, a cover used by Walter to wipe out his previous reputation while the rest of the town takes it as a guilt-free badge of honor.
Combining the clash between these two elements with the Twin Peaks-esque event at the core lifts Small Town Murder Songs above the formulaic fray. It allows actors like Plimpton and Poole to stretch out and be heard, while keeping someone like Stormare in check. As the center of this story, the Coen Brothers (Fargo, The Big Lebowski) favorite must handle the difficult task of having everything arrive at his doorstep without letting the audience all the way into his complex personal portico. With his wry moustache and obvious accent, he comes across as the perfect enigma, someone you'll never get to know completely, but know enough to avoid and/or embrace.
For his part, writer/director Ed Gass-Donnelly delivers on the promise of both his provocative setting and his equally challenging cast. The camera catches the locale in a constant state of twilight, the chilly isolation underlying the closed-off nature of the characters. Similarly, the use of an ethereal, choir based score constantly reminds us of the dogmatic deceptions circling around the circumstances. Indeed, the big picture message offered by Small Town Murder Songs is that, for the most part, salvation doesn't come from a God or a lifestyle structured from same. Instead, it's the standard Pilgrim's Progress, a walk between the edges of good and evil (and the occasional indulgence in same) to truly see the light...be it the truth of who you really are, or the identity of a cold blooded killer. In this case, the distinction may not be that great.
