‘TheVoices’ is a movie that derives most of its humour from vulgarity as opposed to sharp wit or clever punch lines. The lead character is one dimensional, doing little to explore the complexities of the human mind, instead linking mental illness with psychopathic behaviour. It’s a bit disappointing in this sense because murder is a callous and calculated crime where as poor Jerry, who seems to suffer from depression and schizophrenia, turns out to be a slapstick serial killer with a very troubled childhood. So for instance if you’re a fascist with an intolerance of the diverse society we actually live in you will probably love this film.
That said this is a black comedy, so we can’t hold it accountable for its limited attempt in explaining that victims of abuse or psychological disorders are multifaceted individuals with an equally diverse range of human emotions. But we can judge it for being an attempt at comedy which it fails miserably. The quirky bright side of an out of touch Jerry is a clever contrast to the sinister world of severed heads and piled up pizza boxes from which he escapes, but the film lacks the intelligence of a black comedy and falls short of the laughs you’d normally associate with your average light hearted movie, so it really plays out as nothing more than a quirky gore movie with a foul mouthed cat who has a dispassionate view of his canine companion, the kind of quarrelling pair that you find on children’s tv.
In summary this isn’t a movie worth going to see unless you’re on something, or its raining and there has been a train strike and it’s gonna take you an hour and a half to walk up hill through a ghetto to the nearest bus station which is inhabited by a pack of crazed wolves. The Monty Python / Life of Brian score at the end of the film cements the feeling of resentment towards the whole picture, trapped in the middle of the centre row of a semi crowded cinema this was probably the most pain staking three minutes of my life, for which I can remark that going to see this film has only added to the therapy bill.
That said this is a black comedy, so we can’t hold it accountable for its limited attempt in explaining that victims of abuse or psychological disorders are multifaceted individuals with an equally diverse range of human emotions. But we can judge it for being an attempt at comedy which it fails miserably. The quirky bright side of an out of touch Jerry is a clever contrast to the sinister world of severed heads and piled up pizza boxes from which he escapes, but the film lacks the intelligence of a black comedy and falls short of the laughs you’d normally associate with your average light hearted movie, so it really plays out as nothing more than a quirky gore movie with a foul mouthed cat who has a dispassionate view of his canine companion, the kind of quarrelling pair that you find on children’s tv.
In summary this isn’t a movie worth going to see unless you’re on something, or its raining and there has been a train strike and it’s gonna take you an hour and a half to walk up hill through a ghetto to the nearest bus station which is inhabited by a pack of crazed wolves. The Monty Python / Life of Brian score at the end of the film cements the feeling of resentment towards the whole picture, trapped in the middle of the centre row of a semi crowded cinema this was probably the most pain staking three minutes of my life, for which I can remark that going to see this film has only added to the therapy bill.
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