Henry Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986) A deeply unnerving character study (Review)

Disturbing films were in abundance throughout the late 70s and early 80s. With films such as Driller Killer, Cannibal Holocaust, The Last House on the Left and many more being branded “Video Nasties” and essentially blacklisted by the BBFC. Most of the shocking value of these films comes from grotesque gore effects and controversial subject matter (from cannibalism to nazis) and mostly don’t offer much more than cheap, but enjoyable, exploitation schlock. None of these can claim to be as repulsive and distressing as 1986’s Henry Portrait of a Serial Killer. A film that is exactly what it says on the tin; a gritty and realistic depiction of a true to life serial killer based on Henry Lee Lucas.

Throughout the film, we follow Henry (Michael Rooker) who lives with his prison buddy Otis (Tom Towles, based loosely on real-life associate Otis Toole). One day, after leaving her husband, Otis’ sister Becky (Tracy Arnold) shows up to stay for a while. Of course, as you can expect from the film’s title – Henry is a serial killer. He shows virtually no emotion and seems to pick his targets at complete random. Otis is less of a killer but no less of a scumbag. Henry eventually leads Otis down a path that causes both of them to come together to kill. None of this sounds remotely enjoyable to watch and the fact of the matter is, it’s not really. Henry is one of those films that is terrific on basically every level but absolutely punishes the viewer in its relentlessness. However, the film is actually not overly gory. McNaughton manages to create a tense and horrifying environment without showing anything too brutal.

Director John McNaughton crafts what is a sort of anti-horror. Rejected the common tropes of horror films at the time which were mostly based around the popular craze of slasher films. There is no final girl. The eponymous killer, Henry, is not a supernatural entity. There is no rhyme or reason for any of the killing he does. Ultimately it feels less like horror and more like a dark and bleak character study more akin to something like Taxi Driver or Maniac. McNaughton claims that co-writer Richard Fire came from a theatre background which helped balance the “high art” of theatre with the “low art” of exploitation. With how naturalistic the film feels at times it is like the actors are totally improvising and it takes on the form of an almost Cassavetes inspired drama; albeit a lot darker and more depressing.

Opening the film is a series of tableaus that show the victims of Henry. Intercutting between these is Henry himself going about his day to day life, showing the dual side of the character and showcasing how a regular everyday person can be capable of brutality. Often in the film, as is the case in these opening montages, we very rarely see the murders as they happen. We are given the final result, the lifeless body that has been brutalised. Alongside that is the audio of the screams that play over the images. This actually heightens the fear created and forces you to genuinely think about what happened. Elliptic editing is used frequently in this film. We are rarely given full scenes that fully flesh out the world and characters, but we are given enough that we understand precisely everything we need to be immersed in this portrait of a serial killer.

In his debut film is Michael Rooker as Henry. A seemingly soulless individual whose psychotic nature allows him to kill virtually anyone without any remorse or pre-determined motive. His performance is cold and calculated and very rarely shows any glimpses of a functioning, happy human. Allegedly Rooker never stopped acting even when not on camera, remaining in the role consistently; to the point that production designers couldn’t tell the actor and the role apart. In a post-Manson world where serial killers can often be romanticised, especially in horror films, this film shows the true uncompromising and harrowing reality of what a serial killer actually is.

Despite the uncomfortable viewing experience, the film is made incredibly well. With a budget of around $100k, McNaughton and crew make full use of guerilla filmmaking to fill the film with life. All of the people walking around the streets shouting at each other are everyday people walking around Chicago. Cinematographer Charlie Lieberman makes great use of some long unbroken takes that give the film a documentary type feel and help further establish the realism. In some ways, the low budget aids the film drastically. With little money for effects, monsters or anything crazy the creators of the film were forced to make the film as barebones as possible which really makes the film feel a lot more unnerving. The only gripe with the film is whilst the score is quite strong (partly by McNaughton himself), it sounds like it should be from a Carpenter film and in some places takes you out of that grounded realism the film builds so well.

Ultimately whilst this isn’t a film for everyone; people who are looking for an authentically disturbing experience that lives up to the hype of being one of the darkest films ever will be more than “happy”. Henry Portrait of a Serial Killer remains one of the strongest horror films of the 80s and has lost very little of the charm (or anti charm perhaps) that caused it to become a cult film in the first place. Arrow does great work with the 4k transfer which looks and sounds excellent and showcases the film’s filthy atmosphere perfectly. There is a slew of special features including directors commentary, scene-specific commentary with critic Nigel Floyd and many more on the bonus disc that comes with it.

OLIVER’S ARCHIVE – HENRY PORTRAIT OF A SERIAL KILLER