Reviewed by Neil Davey
Stars Jonas Ball, Mie Omari, Joe Abbate, Sofia Dubrawsky,
Krisha Fairchild, James Hadde, Robert Kirk, Thomas McMahon
Written by Andrew Piddington, based on
a psychopathic idea by Mark Chapman
Certification UK 15 | US tbc
Runtime 114 minutes
Directed by Andrew Piddington
Let's start with the positives. Combine The Killing of John Lennon with the portrayal of the 'hired gun' from Cocaine Cowboys and Hollywood will have to redress its whole serial killer / psycho schtick. This isn't tortured individuals being tortured and, er, individual or doing the sorts of things that make neighbours say 'he was quiet man'. This is surprisingly normal bloke(s) doing things so outside the realm of consciousness / normality that you'll be stunned — well sort of —and wondering how this situation ever came to pass.
On that level, The Killing of John Lennon is a fascinating tale. As a purely cinematic experience though, it's a little dull and about 24 minutes overlong.
As you can probably deduct, this is a long, detailed look at Mark Chapman or, rather, the mental state of Mark Chapman at the time he pumped five bullets into a former Beatle. It's a well researched, non-exaggerated look at a stalker's mental state. It's meticulous, very well played by Jonas Ball as the gun-toting (sort-of) loner, and tries to shed some light on Chapman's mental state. The implication is that Chapman was pissed at Lennon's preaching, that we should imagine no possessions —apparently it's easy if we try — but that it's way easier to do if you own five apartments in the Dakota Building, assorted farms, a big chunk of the Beatles' publishing rights and yachts. And, yes, maybe trying to 'imagine' that does make Lennon hypocritical. But it's hard to make that sort of allegation stick: hell, if we could, people would be taking a gun to everyone from Billy Bragg to Elvis Costello. And, ironically, ignoring Westlife and everyone who's ever appeared on a reality TV show (except, ironically, Steve Brookstein who was clearly so anti the idea of fame that I reckon we're now all safe to like him again). There's a great, and potentially powerful, idea in here but sadly it's hidden somewhere in a morass of indy cliches and earnest filmmaking.