Review: Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil And Vile

Image courtesy of Netflix.

Joe Berlinger's "Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile" - which gets its title from a pronouncement made by a judge at the time of its subject's sentencing - takes an interesting approach to telling the story of Ted Bundy, a prolific serial killer in the American northwest during the 1970s who rose to infamy during a publicly televised court case.

With the exception of one brief shot near the film's end, we never witness any of the 30 or so murders that Bundy admitted to committing. Sure, we hear plenty about them, from news clippings, police officers grilling Bundy and the aforementioned trial. Rather than focusing on Bundy as a serial killer, the film takes a look at his relationship with Liz Kendall (Lily Collins), a single mother who met Bundy in a bar one night and was involved on and off with him for more than a decade.

Some critics have complained that by portraying Bundy as a suave, charming smooth talker whose appearance turned the heads of most women when he walked in a room and not showing him as the sadistic killer he was - although there's certainly enough graphic detail during the court proceedings - the filmmakers have tried to humanize a heinous human being. But while I have other issues with the film, this element is actually what keeps it most compelling. It's frightening to observe how people - Kendall, for example, or the numerous other women who turned out for Bundy's trial to show him support - can be taken in by a sociopath merely because he is good looking, talks a good game and seems likable.

Zac Efron, a good looking guy who has often been utilized to play characters with a cocky charm, gives a convincing performance as Bundy. When we first meet him, he is introducing himself to Kendall at a bar. The two slow dance to "Crimson and Clover" and she invites him back to her place. They don't sleep together, but he spends the night at her place and ingratiates himself by making friends with Kendall's young daughter.

Time passes and the couple have become engaged. However, Kendall works in Seattle, while Bundy is a law student in Utah. One night, he is pulled over by police and lands in jail on charges of attempting to kidnap a young woman. Kendall believes him when he professes his innocence, but she's clearly unnerved to find out that her boyfriend is also a suspect in several grisly murders of women across the Pacific Northwest. The suspect that police are seeking matches Bundy's description, right down to the Volkswagen Beetle he drives.

Much of Berlinger's film follows Kendall's own falling apart as she tries to compare the man she thinks she knows with the monster being described on the news. It becomes harder for her to believe in his innocence after he makes two successful escapes from police custody, and several more women at a Florida sorority are brutally murdered, a crime in which Bundy is implicated.

The film falls apart somewhat during the final half with a prolonged series of court sequences that aim to capture the circus-like atmosphere of Bundy's trial. It helps to have John Malkovich as Judge Edward Cowart, providing dry delivery while scolding Bundy once the serial killer decides to become his own defense attorney. Also, since Bundy's character is somewhat of an enigma - and Kendall only exists in relation to her connection with the killer - there's not much in the way of emotional involvement with the film's characters. The picture is frequently engaging, but distant.

Berlinger is no stranger to true crime stories. He directed the phenomenal documentary "Paradise Lost: The Child Murders at Robin Hood Hills," which chronicled the case of some young men who were falsely accused of a hideous crime. That film was extremely powerful. So, perhaps the director has a more difficult time in effectively telling the story of an evil man who was clearly guilty. "Extremely Wicked" is often fascinating in its decision to follow one aspect of its subject - how his charm and looks can woo those who met him into a false sense of security - but it's also ultimately a little limiting.