A serial killer is running around Japan kidnapping, torturing, and dismembering his victims. Meanwhile, a female serial killer is busy picking up men and ruthlessly mutilating them in their bathing suit areas. When the pair eventually meet, will it be love at first sight or a match made in Hell?
Brutal tries a little too hard to be shocking, and because of that, it sometimes fumbles. The death scenes are appropriately over the top, but the Grindhouse aesthetic of the scratchy, jumpy print lessens the overall impact as it keeps calling attention to itself and reminding the audience that it’s only a movie. Interestingly enough, it’s the quieter moments that are more effective and unsettling. The scenes of the killer mopping up, disposing of the victims’ leftovers, and his unorthodox bathing habits are even more disturbing than the murders themselves. I also liked the scenes of him hanging out and talking to the remains of his victims.
The sequences that follow the female serial killer’s day-to-day routine work a little better, mostly because it’s not so in-your-face. The highlight is the long scene where she picks up a potential victim and realizes she might be in love with him, which complicates matters. The third act is probably the best as the two killers’ date quickly escalates into a bloody battle of the sexes, before culminating in one of the grossest love scenes in the history of the silver screen. (Another gnarly moment occurs when the killer jams a knife into the sole of his victim’s foot.)
If the rest of the film had this same kind of vibe, it might’ve been a classic. As it is, Brutal is uneven, but fitfully effective. Although it takes a little while to find its footing, when it works, it works. I’m just certain it would’ve played so much better without the distracting, scratchy, faux-Grindhouse print.
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