The Shallow Tale of a Writer Who Decided to Write About a Serial Killer

In odd & disappointing New York dark comedy "Psycho Therapy" struggling writer John Magaro (meh) is about to be divorced by fed up wife Britt Lower (excellent - the film's only bright aspect) when 'retired serial-killer' Steve Buscemi convinces him to collaborate on a serial-killer book. Cue a silly descent into farcical events involving Buscemi acting as the couple's unconventional marriage counsellor, Lower thinking Magaro's gonna kill her, a coupla kidnappings, and an ending so infuriating that it renders the whole messy sham pointless. If Turkish writer / director Tolga Karaçelik's first English-language film ends up as his last there'll probably be few complaints. It's a turd. Flush it.

From the casting of Mystery Train alum Steve Buscemi to the obligatory Tom Waits song to the deadpan deliveries and the minimalist stream-of-consciousness slice-of-life narrative, it's a fairly familiar formula. And it works for the most part.

Of course, it develops slowly and unfolds at its own unpredictable leisure but the cast is so honestly up for the ride. Suzie can be a little too much at first. But I enjoyed her arc most of all. And the number of clever little things like Ada session, the llama, burn ointment and the chloroform bit, definitely make this fun. Keane's nebbish neuroses and Kollmick's earnest but ineffectual mentoring are delightfully authentic.

Some of the misunderstandings didn't quite click in the comedic way they should have. But a good deal of the film is quirky and interesting enough to keep one entertained.

And every time, she talked to her friend Zoe, my dog with the same name perked her ears up, making the movie quite interactive.

I liked it.

I'll get my gripe with 'Psycho Therapy: The Shallow Tale of a Writer Who Decided to Write About a Serial Killer' out of the way first. Stop starting your film with a scene from the end! I feel like I'm saying this in every second review at the moment (thank you 'The White Lotus'). Trust me, your movie doesn't need it.

This is a really odd little film. It has no business being as entertaining and watchable as it was. It has these characters who should be really unlikable, but because they're so well cast, they somehow work.

The plot is all over the place, but its dry humour often works and the "mix-up" comedy angle works better than I thought it was going to. There's also a very funny scene towards the end that raised it from a 6.5 to a 7/10.

I know that this is a wacky comedy and not a documentary. I get it. Events spin out of control. Things become absurd.

But following the opening dinner-party scene, I didn't believe anything that anyone did in this movie. Not for a minute. And all the actors in it are very capable and give excellent performances.

But nobody's reaction to anything in this arbitrary and unmotivated series of events is remotely like something an actual person might do. Every scene prompts the question, "Why would he/she do that?"

The screenplay is bereft of anything resembling human behavior--homo sapiens or Neanderthals.

The term point of view can have two meanings. First a point of view is literally a place of observation, a stationary or moving vantage from where the audience is invited to look. The other meaning of point of view is an attitude or mental perspective. Both are used to tell the vantage points and states of mind of the shows three main psychos. Poor Keane meant well for everyone, but his inability to read a room or shut-up has strip mined the love from his marriage. Kollmick, despite being a (retired) serial killer, also means well; he has a lot of respect for his nemeses at the Office of the Medical Examiners. Susie is the only one who means terrible.