‘Ramirez’ Indie Review: A Capable Short, Blending the Genres of Journalism and True Crime

It’s fitting I was asked to review “Ramierz,” an independent short film by Rob Levinson, in the midst of binging “Monsters: The Ed Gein” story on Netflix. America’s fascination with serial killers is undying, and, truthfully, Richard Ramirez was one of the worst. In contrast to “Ed Gein,” “Ramirez” seeks to show a journalist’s unwillingness to interview the killer as a sort of thesis of its own—hinting how big a monster Ramirez actually was. The film takes substantial time from its 34 minute run-time to set up Ramirez’ enigma in the time period after his arrest and conviction, when his notoriety wasn’t yet fully realized. Additionally, the film works well in setting up a creepy air with true crime takeaways due to the solid acting of its two leads, Paul Noonan and Marco Sandoval. 

Noonan, who plays fictional journalist Roman Devereaux for the LA Herald Examiner (a real paper) especially performs well here. He’s a true newspaper man, in the spirit of actors like Denzel Washington (“The Pelican Brief”) and the late Paul Newman (“All the President’s Men”). He muses at things professionally and carries a dry, cynical detachment. He’s experienced tragedy in his life, and it’s no secret he has no interest in interviewing Ramirez, no matter how great the headlines. And in fact, the LA Herald Examiner was failing at the time due to a number of factors (most notably competition from the Los Angeles Times), and interviewing a serial killer seemed a desperate move. However, this mirrors concepts set forth in “Ed Gein”—society’s fixation on violence and horror in escalating fashion after the horrors of World War II. 

A Journalist Faces a Killer

What is great about “Ramirez” is the production value the team, Out of Time Pictures, was able to get from its $10,000 budget. The opening title cards are professional and seamless, feeling more like a Hollywood production than is typically afforded small films. It’s also scored hauntingly, which gives it an eerie feel. The opening gives off the aura of police horror films like “Fallen,” combined with the aforementioned journalism pictures. 

“Ramirez” also takes pains to set its proceedings in 1989, making the film feel authentic even its short run. Newspaper clippings and grainy shots of The Night Stalker’s crime scenes add a tonal bleakness to it. And one character discussing his wife taping “Seinfeld,” which she opined would “revolutionize the modern sitcom as we know it,” adds a dated touch. There are times here where you feel you’re living in 1989; had this been a full-length film, I’m sure this feeling would have been intensified. 

The interplay between Ramirez and Devereaux—Sandoval and Noonan, respectfully—also add interest to the film, and both perform well here. Devereaux is integral and seasoned as a newspaperman. He ignores Ramirez’ attempts to lull him into angry debate, remarking with detached nonchalance about the killer’s gambits. Of my favorites were Devereaux commenting on the cliche of Rameriz’ quest to be remembered (“you moved to LA seeking fame?”), while also professionally reminding the prisoner, “I don’t have to understand you to write a truthful article about you.” It’s clear here that Devereaux has an axe to grind. He reminds us with his forced disinterest that he doesn’t want to be here, nor reveres Ramirez as the celebrity he thinks he is. 

Atmosphere and Eeriness Throughout

Sandoval is also good, and embodies the killer well. Again, harkening back to Gregory Hoblit’s “Fallen,” he exists here in a two-fold way. One part is the compulsion to have his story told by a talented journalist, while the other hinges on psychopathic narcissism—his need to brag and be remembered. However, I found it interesting that Ramirez—through Sandoval—reminds Devereaux that “even psychopaths have emotions” in one scene. He’s basically dying to bring Devereaux into a confrontation throughout, and is dripping with bated expectation. Personally, I’ve never seen interviews with the real Richard Ramirez. However, Sandoval does a good job making us believe his psychopathy, even if sometimes it is a bit on the nose. 

My only criticisms of “Ramirez” became its terse ending (it kind of just ends following the interview) and some of the finer symbolic takeaways Levinson tries to plant throughout. As a result, it’s likely that Ramirez’ interview—and Devereaux’s take on it—will not see the light of day amidst the failing newspaper’s financial realities. I initially thought this to be a detriment, but maybe that’s Levinson’s point. Maybe Ramirez’ ramblings, pontifications, and deflecting of blame to Satan didn’t deserve another day of publicity outside his trial. I would have liked maybe five more minutes of screen-time to see the aftermath of the conversation on Devereaux, who to me was the more interesting character. But a look at his legal pad full of notes at the end lets us know maybe he’s said all he needs to say. Or maybe we’re simply meant to wonder. 

A Capable Short

At the end of the day, “Ramirez” is a capable short film. I enjoyed the film’s performances, setting, and series feel throughout. It’s one of the more technically-apt shorts I’ve seen and leaves you thinking after the credits. It’s one to check out if you get the chance. 

Note: “Ramirez” is showing at the upcoming Harvest Shorts Festival for one showing only. You can purchase tickets to the event at the following link. You can also watch the film’s trailer in the window below.