• Wide Release
• Director: Bruce A. Evans
• Written by: Bruce A. Evans, Raynold Gideon
• Running Time: 120 minutes
• Language: English
• MPAA Rating: R - Restricted
• Cast: Kevin Costner, Dane Cook, Demi Moore, William Hurt, Marg Helgenberger, Danielle Panabaker, Ruben Santiago-Hudson, Aisha Hinds, Lindsay Crouse, Jason Lewis, Reiko Aylesworth, Matt Schulze, Yasmine Delawari, Traci Dinwiddie, Michael Cole, Jim Farnum, Megan Brown, Ross Francis, Kit Gwin, Marcus Hester, Jamie McShane

"The hunger has returned to Mr. Brooks’ brain. It never really left.” Living up to its bizarre and droll introductory scroll, is something Bruce Evans’ “Mr. Brooks” does well. The ‘hunger’ of said scroll refers to the desire to murder, and this craving (or ‘addiction', as Mr. Brooks call it) inherently drives four of the characters in this film, propelling them on a collision course with each other, as their lives intercept over the course of four agonizing days. The outcome of the film derived from a gallimaufry of odd casting choices, some forced plotting and a little nip/tucking from various other cinematic psychological thrillers, is surprisingly good. Heck, I’ll go as far as saying that “Mr. Brooks” is one of the best. Enthralling, engrossing and highly entertaining are just a few of the words I can use to describe this film, which, in my opinion, deserves a place amongst some of the best psychological thrillers of all time. Since this is my review then, my opinion is the only one that really matters.

With his box business thriving, Mr. Earl Brooks (Kevin Costner), has found himself not only very wealthy and successful, but also on tap for Portland’s ‘Man of the Year’ award, an event for which opens the film. A curious thing happens here though, as Brooks steps to the podium and accepts, he turns and pauses momentarily as if in a trance, before collecting himself and blowing a kiss at his loving wife, Emma (Marg Helgenberger). It is in that pause, that lingering moment of nothingness, that Mr. Brooks finds his way. Lurking within those pauses, outward moments of contemplation to others, is an inner monster that nobody but Mr. Brooks can see or hear. His name is Marshall (William Hurt) and he is the Hyde to Brooks’ Jekyll. Representing the hunger, Marshall fancies murder and the excitement and pleasure that he derives from it, while Brooks regards it as something to be quelled. The glorious battle of addiction. The mephisto waltz.

Having wrestled with and ultimately subdued his inner Hyde for nearly two years, Brooks, known to the police as the “thumb print killer”, finds himself growing increasingly more restless especially when he spies a cute young couple in a dance class. A fleeting exchange with Marshall, an unseen passenger residing in the backseat, culminates in Brooks asking his wife if they can stop for a burger, thus setting in motion a series of events that threaten to throw Mr. Brooks’ life into total disarray. Like everything else in the film, this stop for a burger at first seems totally spontaneous, until you realize that Brooks had it planned down to the last detail, and it is this normal meticulous attention that is overlooked when he decides to kill again. His childlike exuberance at committing his first homicide in nearly two years and a pair of opened curtains leaves him in a very precarious position. The next day when a strange man calling himself Mr. Smith (Dane Cook) arrives at his office, incriminating photos in hand, Mr. Brooks discerns that all of his years of cleaning up after himself and alluding capture by the police is in jeopardy. “You’re the Thumb Print Killer,” Smith says, articulating perfectly the barrel that he has Brooks over. However, Smith isn’t interested in blackmailing him for money, no; see, like Mr. Brooks, he derived a strange glee from watching the couple die and, well, he wants more. He wants Smith to take him along when he does it again.

A couple of subplots are introduced, one involving Brooks’ college-aged daughter Jane (Danielle Panabaker), who has dropped out and is harbouring a deep dark secret, a secret that neither Brooks nor his alter ego want to confront. When cops come knocking at his door regarding a murder, Brooks finds himself hopping a plane to California in order to make things right. “I love her,” Brooks confides to Marshall, while, at the same time hinting at a fear that lurks deep inside. The dynamic of this relationship, from father to daughter is unlike any other in his life. Brooks fears his daughter, fears what she could become, but at the same time is in a very awkward place of abdicating control. Another subplot involves a millionaire heiress/cop with daddy issues. Detective Tracy Atwood (Demi Moore), while being dogged by divorce woes and an escaped serial killer she helped put away, is able to piece together various things regarding the suddenly active “Thumb Print Killer” and his latest double homicide. Her methods speak to an old school James Ellroy beat cop, with evidence being garnered from breaking and entering, tough-guy antics and plenty of squinty-eyed hunches.

A plentiful array of unexpectedly rich and resonating characters are really the thing that gives this film legs, as well as its adherence to originality, even in the very well-worn psychological thriller genre, a genre where, in recent years, whole films seem to be designed around a very boring and predictable twist ending. Bruce A. Evans avoids route, giving us a story that is as unpredictable as it is jolting, all while remaining true to his characters. With every new moment passed, it seems there’s a new revelation, none of which feels manipulative. Many might feel that Evans is trying to pack too much into too little, namely with the inclusion of so many subplots, but for me, it just made it all the more fun and volatile, especially the way they seemed to tie together so effortlessly, making for the kind of ending that will surely knock you on your ass. Also, where some films seem to think by showing more promises an enhanced emotional reaction; this film proves that it isn’t necessarily true. There’s plenty of violence on screen, but the stuff that happens off, for me, was more frightening. The mischievous look of the daughter who realizes that the cops want to speak to her about a murder; the look of perverted joy in Smith’s eyes as he drives away from the scene of a double homicide; the sinister, devilish look in Brooks’ eyes as he one-ups another.

I can't begin to describe the joy that came from watching Costner and Hurt do their thing on screen. Watching these two mega-talents do what they do best reminds me of why I've made movie watching my premier hobby. There’s a certain depraved beauty to their tête-à-têtes that I found absolutely intoxicating. Hurt seems to be representing a human version of the little devil-on-the-shoulder character, attempting to justify Mr. Brooks' wicked cravings, all while warning him about getting caught, as in the scene where he virtually relinquishes control to Costner regarding involving himself in the Hangman Killer case. Costner, on the hand, represents a public face, man in bondage, a man who keeps his self-destructive desires in check while putting up a virtuous front. These two go back and forth, sometimes agreeing, sometimes battling it out, and sometimes simply holding each other as they have a good cry. There’s so much depth to this character of Mr. Brooks that, at times, you almost want to root for him and even sympathize with him, but, in the end, you are constantly reminded that he truly is the devil incarnate. He’s a man without a conscience, happily indulging in the most heinous of acts. However, watching him weep in the kitchen, a father worrying for the safety of his daughter and shouldering the responsibility for her predicament, is one of the moments that will surely leave audiences torn, for the simply reason that we can understand his dilemma.

Dane Cook, as the devious Mr. Smith, seems to absolutely imbue his character here. Everything about him screams sleaze, from his dirty hair to his unshaven beard, to his shifty-eyed behaviour, this a powerful performance from a man noted for only doing comedies. Watching him as he gets deeper and deeper into it, always presenting himself as the centerpiece of his own game, while completely oblivious to the fact that he just another pawn in another bigger game being played by a more skilled Mr. Brooks, is simply awesome. Demi Moore, looking more gorgeous than ever, tackles her role with a kind of resilient charm. Forever a bad ass, her tactics are questionable but they get the job done. The side-story involving the Hangman Killer was probably the weakest link of the movie but for a weak link, it’s still pretty damn entertaining. Danielle Panabaker as Jane, also provided the film with some memorable moments, namely her suspicious involvement in a murder, and the director’s decision to never fully confirm whether or not that suspicion has any merit.

To sum this film up; have you ever been laying in bed at night and suddenly, in the darkness, you think you see something moving in the corner of the room. Over time, you become convinced that something or somebody is in the room with you, so you begin to contemplate how fast you can jump out of bed and turn on the light. Those few seconds are the most terrifying, heart-racing few minutes of your life. You know that feeling? If you do, well, that perfectly sums up the feeling that you are left with when you watch “Mr. Brooks.” It’s a total rush, for sure. Lastly, there’s a rumour that this is the first in a trilogy of films, and hopefully that rumour turns out to be true. I could definitely go for another helping. To Steve and Royce, my two friends who begged me relentlessly to watch this film, citing that it was one of the best psychological thrillers they'd ever seen, I must concur. You guys were abso-freaking-lutely on the money.