‘Zodiac Killer Project’ Review: A Frustrated Filmmaker Takes Aim at the Industry’s True-Crime Addiction

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Lamenting the lost cinematic gems is understandable: from the unexecuted grand epics, the unappreciated artistic films, to the seemingly disinterested streaming content. Filmmaker Charles Shackleton experienced this sorrow when his extensively researched project, a documentary on the Zodiac killer case, was canceled following years of development. However, his vision for the film was so vast that it couldn’t be left unfulfilled. In the humbly titled “Zodiac Killer Project,” Shackleton shares how his movie would have unfolded, delivering a candid account of what might have been.

The open storyteller, known as a movie reviewer who’s had work published, reveals not only his remorse but also offers a fun critique. This documentary serves as both an examination and a jest at the true-crime content craze, showcasing how the genre has completely succumbed to imitating its own trends.

Despite not being able to directly reference “The Zodiac Killer Cover-up: The Silent Badge” as its source due to legal constraints, Shackleton’s project can be considered an unofficial adaptation. Initially, Shackleton had secured film rights from the family of book author and former CHP officer Lyndon E. Lafferty, who passed away in 2016. “The Silent Badge” was a lengthy personal investigation by Lafferty, who believed he encountered the Zodiac Killer and was later discouraged by police superiors from pursuing his suspect. Shackleton found Lafferty’s book intriguing as it offered fresh insights into the extensively examined Zodiac case files. However, during location scouting in the killer’s old territory, the agreement with the family fell apart.

The “Zodiac Killer Project” features Shackleton narrating the plot points he’d envisioned for the film, delivering his story in a meandering, contemplative tone as backdrops of Bay Area landscapes unfold. At times, Shackleton slips into a trance, reenacting key dramatic scenes, only to snap out of it and laugh at himself, breaking the spell. Scattered throughout are close-up shots depicting crime-scene flashbulbs and burning documents – elements Shackleton acknowledges as typical tropes. As a result, “Zodiac Killer Project” almost takes on the appearance of a real true-crime documentary.

The humor lies in the fact that this film manages to mimic a true-crime doc by employing only basic components. This is also the reason why the movie eventually runs up against the constraints of its conceptual exercise: a parody of an uninteresting, monotonous genre must adhere to the rules set by that genre’s playbook.

Shackleton appears disheartened about his initial concepts, as evident in his recording booth appearances. After presenting a captivating introduction, he sighs, “What a shame it couldn’t have been.” However, the more intriguing puzzle lies in determining whether the filmmaker truly embraced this material seriously when they first embarked on the “Zodiac Killer Project.

In essence, Lafferty was a man who found that uncovering the truth required him to take control of his own destiny. However, from another perspective, his endeavor could be seen as a futile pursuit: a clandestine operation that was hampered by an overfocus on a particular suspect. The narrative becomes increasingly implausible as it unfolds, culminating in a twist where Lafferty and his target eventually overlap in their social circles. Robert Graysmith, the relentless author of the most renowned book about this case, who was portrayed by Jake Gyllenhaal in David Fincher’s “Zodiac,” would have also fit the mold for a character in Shackleton’s tale. Here, Graysmith mirrors the triumphant tale against Lafferty’s mundane operation, much like how Bob Dylan becomes part of the ironic climax in the Coen brothers’ “Inside Llewyn Davis.

Remarkably similar to a scene from Fincher’s film, Shackleton’s conclusion for his project echoes. While this isn’t explicitly mentioned, it’s another instance of Shackleton using true-crime stereotypes, particularly the enigmatic nature of their endings. There are numerous criticisms levied against the modern wave of true-crime productions, including the lack of restraint in “Making a Murderer” and the contradictory morality of Ryan Murphy’s series “Dahmer: Monster”. In one part, Shackleton humorously points out how the genre can function effectively with “no guidance needed”.

The stark reality is that the initial, unexecuted Zodiac Killer endeavor – not “Zodiac Killer Project” per se – appears to be below the caliber of an artist like Shackleton. This British artist gained prominence in 2016 with his 10-hour film “Paint Drying,” a piece created as a protest against censorship and high costs associated with independent filmmaking. Remarkably, he submitted this work to the British Board of Film Classification, compelling them to watch its contents. However, all work has its appeal, and Shackleton acknowledges in the documentary that many non-fiction filmmakers often find themselves drawn towards true-crime projects in today’s industry.

The director takes pride in the unique style of his initial concept and has an impressive ability to bring non-existent films to life, indicating how organized and influential the genre has become as it approaches market supremacy. The sparsely designed “Zodiac Killer Project” was chosen for Sundance’s experimental NEXT section, a curatorial triumph that feels like an unexpected attack. Shackleton acknowledges this, questioning, “How many people will realistically watch this?” It’s likely to be significantly fewer than the number of viewers who streamed Netflix’s Zodiac killer docuseries while doing laundry last year.

To those aware of the boundaries in filmmaking, “The Zodiac Killer Project” serves as a sharp commentary on how numerous creators find themselves stuck in a creative rut due to an industry that prioritizes trends over originality.

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2025-01-28 06:48