Zodiac Killer Project Brilliantly Deconstructs Our Obsession With True Crime

by

The vacant parking lot, as it stands, is just an ordinary parking lot. However, if a mysterious voice whispers to you that a serial killer might be hiding somewhere in the area, the parking lot takes on a different character – eerie yet comical at the same time. This is the setting for Charlie Shackleton’s film “Zodiac Killer Project“. It’s a thought-provoking critique of our society’s obsession with true crime, exposing and mocking typical genre tropes while simultaneously embracing them. The movie premiered at Sundance Film Festival, and while it might not have a big streaming debut, it certainly raises questions about why we are so drawn to these stories. Ironically, the film itself demonstrates some of the reasons behind our fascination. It would be intriguing if Netflix acquired it, released it, and watched as viewers became engrossed in what appears to be real crime but is actually a toxic replica. We’d all likely be too caught up in our daily routines – doing laundry, ordering food, texting – to notice the difference.

According to Shackleton’s account, not too long ago, he was planning a true-crime series based on Lyndon Lafferty, a California Highway Patrol officer who believed he had encountered the Zodiac Killer, an elusive Bay Area serial murderer. After his higher-ups declined to launch an official investigation, Lafferty spent years gathering evidence against the suspect, whom he called George Russell Tucker (a pseudonym). In 2012, Lafferty published a book detailing his freelance detective work titled “The Zodiac Killer Cover-up: The Silenced Badge“. Shackleton had intended to adapt this book into a mini-series. Despite not seeing himself as a filmmaker for such projects, “documentary work these days has a strong pull towards true crime,” says the director in a voiceover, “so eventually, you succumb to it.

During the process of contract discussions and preparation for production, Lafferty’s family opted out, causing Shackleton’s project to collapse. Instead of his planned reenactments, interviews, and eerie montages, the director now shares his story over deserted streets, unidentified storefronts, empty homes, and potentially former locations for his pseudo-narrative. He laments, “What a shame it would have been,” as he proceeds to create a mock credit sequence using the credit sequences of other true-crime series, emphasizing the elements these sequences typically include: layered imagery, mysterious figures, and a disheveled, scratchy aesthetic that seems like it was made by the serial killer themselves.

By analyzing a specific genre in his film, Shackleton effectively dismantles his own work as well. As he expresses regret over his unfinished project, we are provided with glimpses of what the completed piece would have offered. He also clarifies exactly what he’s offering: footage of police sketches and file-laden tables; scenic shots of highways and landscapes; slow, suspenseful zooms into deserted streets; as well as close-ups of hands, feet, eyes, tape recorders, and other elements often associated with “evocative B-roll” commonly found in true crime documentaries.

Occasionally, his filmmaking style seems to blend the stark, observational, experimental methods of filmmakers like James Benning and Jenni Olson with a self-conscious narrative twist. The casual narration and extended shots of deserted locales create a relaxing pace that transforms the harshness of human atrocity into effortless comfort viewing. The movie follows a structure, unfolds a storyline, builds up climaxes, introduces false leads, and creates tense moments of anticipation. It might even make you question if those empty spaces, in their eerie silence, are more unsettling now, given the haunting aftermath of Shackleton’s seemingly unsuccessful tale. After watching this movie, you may find yourself having gained insights into Lyndon Lafferty’s story and possibly experiencing a few goosebumps of affirmation.

Essentially, the Zodiac Killer Project isn’t primarily focused on true-crime documentaries; instead, it delves into broader societal themes. The film reveals how presentation style gives an impression of agreement. Shackleton’s openness in presenting these elements, while making us aware that he is doing so according to the conventions of the true crime genre, shatters a cognitive barrier. We are amused by the realization of our own manipulation, yet we also become conscious of how familiar tropes create meaning – how suspicion can be fabricated, and how narrative requirements will always overpower the complexities of truth, whether on screen, on TV, or in real life.

Read More

2025-01-28 07:54