By Ryan Pike
In order to get through the grind of everyday life, it’s important to have hobbies. Some people scrapbook or quilt while others play video games or collect Civil War artifacts. Earl Brooks has a seemingly ideal existence: a loving wife, a thriving box-manufacturing business and he’s just been named Man of the Year. He also has a peculiar hobby. He kills people.
In Mr. Brooks, Earl (Kevin Costner) struggles with his urge to commit murder and we quickly learn why: he’s being constantly tormented by a malevolent figure he calls Marshall (William Hurt) to give in to his urges and go for one last kill. Earl gives in for the first time in two years, inadvertently murdering a couple in the throes of lovemaking in plain view of their photographing neighbour (Dane Cook). Instead of going to the cops, the neighbour approaches Earl and asks to accompany him on his next kill, threatening to turn the family man into the police if he refuses. Add a detective (Demi Moore) relentlessly tracking down Earl–who has become known to police over the years as the Thumbprint Killer–with the unexpected return home of Earl’s college-aged daughter (Danielle Panabaker), and Earl’s life is suddenly very complicated.
Directed by Bruce A. Evans and co-written by Evans and Raynold Gideon–the team behind 1986’s Oscar-nominated Stand By Me—Mr. Brooks is a surprisingly taut film with very little fat, despite spanning two hours. Every scene and seemingly unrelated subplot feeds into a whirlwind third act. In particular, subplots involving a detective’s divorce and an escaped convict initially seem tacked-on to give Demi Moore something to do until they fall into place like a puzzle piece with 15 minutes to go and become integral to the larger plot. Only a subplot involving Earl’s daughter isn’t developed enough to really matter, with the climax to that storyline being the film’s only misstep. The scenes depicting the initial kill are especially great, shedding light on exactly how Earl has been able to get away with murder for years.
Even through the film is about a murdering sociopath, the inclusion of William Hurt’s character makes it work. Fashioned as a sort of conscience for Mr. Brooks, Marshall is able to cut through the defenses of Brooks and any others he comes into contact with, providing Earl with his sage advice in the matters of parenting or business. This is made evident in two scenes involving Earl interrogating his daughter about her departure from school and negotiating with the blackmailing neighbour. A lesser film would’ve muddled the use of Hurt, confusing the viewer about whether he was real or imaginary. Evans and Gideon make it extremely clear from the first scene that he’s in Brooks’ head, which makes the rest of the film tie together nicely.
Straying from his image as a curmudgeony baseball player, Kevin Costner is fantastic, managing to cultivate two personas–the loving father and the murderous sociopath–with ease. William Hurt recalls his chilling turn in A History of Violence. Dane Cook has his moments, but exists merely as a plot device. The same goes for Demi Moore, who seems to sleepwalk her way through the majority of her scenes with the same blank expression on her face. Marg Helgenberger and Danielle Panabaker are effective as Earl’s wife and daughter, but aren’t given very much to do.
In the era of Saw, Hostel and other mindless, heartless and horridly-composed clones, this film stands out as a thriller with a brain. Mr. Brooks somehow establishes the villain as the hero and Kevin Costner’s portrayal is likable, sympathetic and utterly frightening at once. There’s also more than enough gore to satisfy even the staunchest slasher flick fan.