Pleased to Kill You

Door-to-door knockers can be annoying at the best of times. Nobody likes their peace to be unsolicitedly interrupted. But I suppose they (usually) aren’t serial killers, unlike the unwelcome visitor at the centre of Adolfo Vico’s exciting yet frustrating short film Pleased to Kill You.

Described as a psychological horror film, Pleased to Kill You is perhaps better defined as a compact chamber thriller. When we are introduced to Dominic Quinn's character, he is fluidly maneuvering through an array of aliases — answering to Darren, Robert, Charlie, etc. — swapping out work uniforms to smoothly gain entry into unsuspecting residential homes. What happens once inside is left largely to the imagination, although we later learn that he ominously 'likes to take his time'. He is on top of the world, seemingly getting away with his murder spree, and nobody can stand in his way. Except, perhaps, Bill (Tino Orsini). We quickly learn that Bill is not like the rest of those gullible homeowners because Bill has a moniker: ‘The Skinner’, an infamous serial killer who hasn’t been seen in years. When the two men collide, a tense exchange begins, of which only one can make it out alive.

The film has little meat on its bones, which is not necessarily a bad thing. The psychology of serial killers, both real and fictional, has been analysed to death. So it shows admirable restraint that such analysis is not on screenwriters Vico and Shaun Grimsley’s minds; they are more interested in artful conversation. The problem is that the central dialogue is not quite deft enough to justify this stripped-back approach. Without meaningful psychological exploration, the script has little to sustain the tension, and it fails to replace it with an equally compelling alternative. This isn’t to suggest such a conversation can’t be compelling on its own terms. To make an unfair comparison, the horror of “Silence of the Lambs” is built largely around dialogue; the description of acts done plays in your head in grizzlier detail than the camera could ever convey. Here, however, the exchange remains frustratingly superficial, amounting to little more than two men sharing a cup of tea and discussing their mutual adoration for murder.

At least the tone is light, with humour as much a part of the movie’s DNA as its suspense. The film never takes itself too seriously, and its audience would be wise to do the same. The performances help in delivering this tonal tightrope. Quinn is ceaselessly charismatic as a slimy but charming killer, delivering every line with a twinkle in his eye. Orsini is more grounded, adding gravitas and calculated menace to Bill that lends the danger both men face the necessary credibility. Where Quinn is an excitable puppy, Orsini is the weathered wolf, patiently waiting for prey to mistakenly fall into his open jaws. Both performances are excellent, and much of the film's success is owed to them.

But Pleased to Kill You is not without its stylistic charms. Vico demonstrates a confident command of visual composition, using static blocking and atmospheric lighting effectively, such as when Bill answers the door and a shard of light splits his face, revealing a keen eye before his true identity is revealed. It is unfortunate, then, that the script can not live up to such on- and off-screen talent. So while Pleased to Kill You will surely entertain, it never quite delivers the savage blow it so clearly intends.