Based on true events, this crime drama relates the story of two cops (Dean Morgan and Worthington) down in the Texan bayous who are investigating a series of grim murders of young women that tie back to the titular area.
Shambolic and often incomprehensible, producer Michael Mann's daughter, director Ami Canaan Mann, clearly proves talent isn't genetic. A real shame as despite decent performances from four capable actors, poor camera work and muddled writing completely sink it. The film attempts to go for a gritty, down to earth, often grungy look, befitting the subject, but it instead comes off as on par with a student film, with plenty of lazy, near continuous hand-held cam, bland video quality and tacky lighting. Honestly, it felt more like a cheap reconstruction for 'interchangeable crime documentary show #2383845', and strips a lot of mood and tension out of a film that so badly wants to have style and a sinister ambiance. Having a poor sound mix doesn't help out either.
However, Dom Ferrarone's script is the even bigger offender here; it literally has no idea what it wants to be. By turns, it's a drama, a psychological suspense flick, a social indictment on poverty in the area, a family story, a biopic, a morality tale and even a faux- documentary. Its focus is so all over the map that not only can it be frustrating to follow as the investigation always seems to be interrupted by other aspects, leading to an erratic flow of time and poor pacing, but the characters suffer. None of them are interesting, well fleshed out or even that relateable, which should be a 'no-duh' for this sort of film. Biopics/historical films live and die by the humanization of the figures presented, and sadly, this is more like 'Wyatt Earp' or 'For Great Glory' in this regard, where every one is flat. Only difference is those films at least felt coherent and not chopped up like this one.
Frankly, I'm going to just wrap this up and just say that 'T.K.F' may be one of the worst biopics and crime films I have ever seen, and considering I'm a period junkie, that's saying a lot. This is one pony Daddy Mann shouldn't have bought for his little angel, and instead, shipped to the glue factory.
Shambolic and often incomprehensible, producer Michael Mann's daughter, director Ami Canaan Mann, clearly proves talent isn't genetic. A real shame as despite decent performances from four capable actors, poor camera work and muddled writing completely sink it. The film attempts to go for a gritty, down to earth, often grungy look, befitting the subject, but it instead comes off as on par with a student film, with plenty of lazy, near continuous hand-held cam, bland video quality and tacky lighting. Honestly, it felt more like a cheap reconstruction for 'interchangeable crime documentary show #2383845', and strips a lot of mood and tension out of a film that so badly wants to have style and a sinister ambiance. Having a poor sound mix doesn't help out either.
However, Dom Ferrarone's script is the even bigger offender here; it literally has no idea what it wants to be. By turns, it's a drama, a psychological suspense flick, a social indictment on poverty in the area, a family story, a biopic, a morality tale and even a faux- documentary. Its focus is so all over the map that not only can it be frustrating to follow as the investigation always seems to be interrupted by other aspects, leading to an erratic flow of time and poor pacing, but the characters suffer. None of them are interesting, well fleshed out or even that relateable, which should be a 'no-duh' for this sort of film. Biopics/historical films live and die by the humanization of the figures presented, and sadly, this is more like 'Wyatt Earp' or 'For Great Glory' in this regard, where every one is flat. Only difference is those films at least felt coherent and not chopped up like this one.
Frankly, I'm going to just wrap this up and just say that 'T.K.F' may be one of the worst biopics and crime films I have ever seen, and considering I'm a period junkie, that's saying a lot. This is one pony Daddy Mann shouldn't have bought for his little angel, and instead, shipped to the glue factory.