Allen Poe aside, “Heartless” is clearly drawn as an homage to Marry Harron’s 2000 film “American Psycho” from its premise down to its execution. While that film, based off the controversial novel by Brett Easton Ellis was a parody of ‘80s yuppie greed and bloodlust, there was something that set its protagonist, Patrick Bateman, apart from the crowd. He was illusory, contemplative, über vicious and sardonic. His murders were undertaken with an air of satire while also commenting on his disturbed psychology. But underneath it all there was a detachment from his grisly deeds – along with an air of mystery – that made him easy to align with.
It’s difficult to review “Heartless” without some context. In the the film’s near-opening, after being insulted for doing a crummy job on a financial presentation, Shelby (Stacy Snyder) smashes a coffee cup into her colleague’s face and slits her throat with the remains. The scene is strewn with blood and holds our gaze at her victim’s despair before cutting back to the present – an office where Shelby is giving a presentation to a trio of privileged Wall Street types. “Shelby’s been kind enough to step in for Clare,” begins one, talking not so much to Shelby but at her. “So as soon as you get me a cup of coffee we can get started.”
Sluder does well here, both in Shelby’s reactions and the delivery from Michael Mercer’s polka dot tie and stripe shirt bespeckled Tripp Flynn. Misogyny runs deep through this crowd, and Snyder shows her character’s irritation while attempting to laugh off the abuse with precision.
If Sluder had stopped here, focusing the camera on Shelby’s discomfort in the wake of these men, along with flashbacks of her hidden deed, “Heartless” may have fared better than it ultimately lands. The trouble is, that while Snyder is a terrific actress, it’s hard to sympathize with her character; who, let’s face it, is basically a psychopathic murderer. We see little into her psychology to explain her actions other than her desire to fit in and be accepted. Her admonishment at the film’s opening at Clare’s hands is hurtful and deep. Clare, played well by Joanna Sotomura, highlights Shelby’s fears – she’s little but an incompetent partner to be replaced. She lashes out in anger, seemingly.
However later additions, such as her basking in her deed while trying on a mask of insanity, blurs her character. Her subsequent actions in the boardroom seem misplaced. Asks one critic: “How many times have we all wanted to throw a steaming pot of coffee in our jerky boss’s face, then disembowel him or her with a paring knife…?” But “Heartless,” billed as a re-telling of Poe’s classic “The Tell-Tale Heart,” isn’t scored with that work’s sense of fear and haunting guilt. Shelby’s proud of her deed one minute, haunted by Clare the next, and the film has the misadjusted feeling of punching your boss in the face rather than the levels of psychological horror it intends.
The gore’s a problem. There may be something redeeming in a character bleeding profusely from a neck wound or her killer holding her beating heart in blood-covered hands, but I don’t see it. Rather than capitalize on the graphic, “Heartless” misses an opportunity to shine more light on Shelby’s motivation and psyche. The eeriest things happen in hidden corners of our damaged minds, and there’s something infinitely more dangerous in a slow-building and tortured guilt than splitting someone’s head with an axe. “Heartless” means to entertain, though, and you can understand Sluder’s intentions.
“Heartless” runs at just over twelve minutes, and herein lies the problem. It’s either too short or too long, too horrific or not enough. The acting is for the most part excellent, the cinematography, costume design, and set pieces pleasing and effective. It’s visual but not very deep. Its story presents a woman on the brink of insanity, yet her slip into this region of infinity is drawn with blood and guts rather than psychology or understanding.
– by Mark Ziobro
