HENRY: PORTRAIT OF A SERIAL KILLER (1986) – one of the most infamous horror movies of the 2oth Century, but surprisingly underseen, Henry is the kind of squicky crawl down a soft, oozing, black tunnel that never ends and that has no exit. Shot in 28 days, on 16mm, for $110,000 it tells the story of a man who kills women, over and over and over again, and the police officers who not only don’t seem to care but are entirely absent from the movie. Light years away from the portrayal of serial killers as quipping, elegant avatars of chaos, like Hannibal Lecter, Henry is based on Henry Lee Lucas and he lives at the bottom of society, holding down menial jobs, couch surfing, and drifting from town to town leaving a trail of dead women in his wake. Before it came out, Henry spent three years trying to get passed by the MPAA, but don’t watch it now expecting it to have the same grim impact. When it was released, there was nothing like it in mainstream cinema, and the brutal murders, flat emotional tone, and lack of moralism on the part of the filmmakers was truly shocking. Watching Henry today, what lands is how classically well-made the movie is (with a great score, grimy cinematography, and a deep sound design), how tight and airless the script is, and how powerful the three lead performances are. Michael Rooker is beyond intense as Henry, Tom Towles is a great dumb sidekick who’s more morally bankrupt than his idol, and Tracy Arnold wouldn’t go on to do much but here she makes you feel wonderfully queasy as the innocent victim who falls in love with a man who might either save her or kill her. Back then, it was a freak show of violence. Today, it’s a movie whose reputation has overshadowed just how good it actually is. (Watch the trailer!) (Watch it!)
