Always have your mechanic check the fuel pump before taking in an afternoon of baseball. But if you don't--be prepared to shake your head. Wince. Now run for your life! All good advice when dealing with "The Sadist." Arch Hall Jr. carves out one of the most demented portrayals in screen history. There is not a sliver of goodness in his contorted face or stooped walk. He drinks soda pop and wolfs down apple pie with ghoulish glee. He also kills people. Often. He hates cops and teachers. The movie has both present: three egg heads and two swine. A meal only a true psycho can savor. And does he ever. Along for the ride is his mute, sycophant lady friend--a Miss Manners reject. Together they torture the living daylights out of anyone who crosses their path. The director pulls no punches in realizing this stark land of visual terror. Surprisingly, the cameraman, Zsigmond, has gone on to win an Oscar and a raft of prime Hollywood assignments. Everyone else--in this 92 minute movie--only wishes to escape and catch a few innings of a good ball game. Instead, they all suffer from heat stroke and a terminal case of hooky from the rest of the world. Amen.
Review of The Sadist
