Random Acts of Violence: Jay Baruchel’s Long-Lead Slasher/Horror Flick Doesn’t Quite Kill

By Thom Ernst

Rating: C

Having read Bonnie Laufer’s interview, I have a better understanding of how Jay Baruchel came to write and direct the horror film Random Acts of Violence.

Bonnie recently spoke to Baruchel about the film for Original-Cin. Turns out Baruchel, along with Jesse Chabot (Goon), had the idea bouncing around in their psyche for a while. It must be somewhat of a relief for them to finally let this story free. Unfortunately, the results are less than gratifying for the audience.

The film is based on the comic book by Justin Gray and Jimmy Palmiotti. If you know the book (I didn’t, but that’s soon to be remedied as I now have it on order) you might find it odd for Baruchel to be so heavily involved.

Random Acts of Violence is dark stuff. Not that Baruchel isn’t capable of stepping off the light-fare treadmill and into something darker—look no further than Jacob Tierney’s underrated thriller, Good Neighbours (2010) for evidence of that. But he has made a niche in roles where he can best optimize his Tom Hanks/Jack Lemmon charms.

The idea of him nurturing a project that involves graphic depictions of mutilation and torture from ground level through to the end is not something I readily expect Baruchel to comfortably devote his time. Whether spiritually, emotionally, physically or mentally, the ordeal of making this film had to be exhausting; at least as exhausting as it is to watch it.

The story focuses on Todd, a comic book writer (Jesse Williams) struggling to find a way to complete his popular but controversial “Slasherman” series chronicling the brutal slayings at the hands of a welding mask–wearing serial killer. Todd’s anxiety is heightened after being publicly accused of profiting from the victims’ deaths.

His girlfriend (Jordana Brewster) is supportive but conflicted given that she’s researching material for her own book designed to give voice to the victims. This sets up the kind of literary conundrum that sparks questions of artistic freedom versus exploitation, and who owns the right to claim the moral high ground. (Snore).

The couple set off on a publicity/research tour along the same highway where the murders, and the murders depicted in Todd’s book, occurred. They are joined by Todd’s business partner, Ezra (Baruchel) and his assistant, Aurora (Niamh Wilson). For a short while, the film gains some momentum coasting on the familiar yet fragile relationship between the four characters.

Baruchel and Williams spar wonderfully with each other and Wilson’s neurotic yet dependable Aurora is a constant delight. But the film stalls just when it should be picking up speed. The road trip takes a nasty turn as things along the highway start to look eerily familiar. It soon becomes clear that Todd’s art is being recreated in a series of vicious crimes.

Baruchel strives to anchor the story in a premise stronger than that of a routine slasher film. It would be a worthy pursuit if he had been able to succeed. But in his attempt to convey just how serious this all is, Baruchel ditches any sense of humour that might have worked in the film’s favour.

Of course, serial killings are hardly a foundation for levity, and Baruchel was not out to make a light film, but he gives us nothing here to work in contrast with the film’s bleak, and often ugly, tones. He leaves us with only the bleak and the ugly.

What is in stark contrast is Baruchel’s use of heightened reality (every set piece seems meticulously designed and lit) against the script's naturalistic dialogue (characters frequently talk over top of each other), but the two styles conflict rather than complement.

With Random Acts of Violence, Baruchel seems determined to convey a message —and though it is likely the same message mapped out by the original authors—under Baruchel’s direction, the message gloms onto the narrative with the weight of a wet sound blanket.

Random Acts of Violence revels in a perverse and ironic navel-gazing that criticizes the very genre in which it is presented. Claiming that the ends justify the means, particularly in cases where violent content is concerned, can be tricky. The argument that we’re not exploiting violence we’re merely depicting violence to illustrate how terrible exploiting violence can be, tends to come across as disingenuous.

Random Acts of Violence is a bit of a heavy slog to get through, despite a well-intentioned script and fine performances. And Baruchel does show he has some chops for directing scenes of suspense, even if he refuses to see the humour in any of it.

Random Acts of Violence. Directed by Jay Baruchel. Starring Jordana Brewster, Jesse Williams, Jay Baruchel and Niamh Wilson. Available to rent or own across all digital and on-demand platforms July 31.