The Killing Gene (Formerly titled "WAZ" or "W Delta Z") is a psychological thriller that is high on mood and ideas but low on pacing and actual thrills.
Stellan Skarsgård (Exorcist: The Beginning) stars as Eddie Argo, a veteran cop investigating a string of bizarre serial murders. In each case, the victims were forced to make the unconscionable decision to save themselves or the life of a loved one. Now Eddie and his rookie partner (Melissa George, Alias) must stop the carnage before the killer strikes too close to home.
Director Tom Shankland and writer Clive Bradley have made a film with an undeniably intriguing conceit at its core: How much do we really love one another? The idea is that humanity is innately selfish and that when push comes to shove, we'll save our own hide, even if it means sacrificing another. The killer here is out to test that theory and does so in painful methods not unlike those devised by "Jigsaw" in the "Saw" films.
The cast assembled does a uniformly great job in bringing the premise to life. Stellan Skarsgård is a gruff, commanding presence, Melissa George shows suprising toughness as his rookie partner, and the rest of the cast fill out their parts quite well; I'll refrain from discussing them too much for fear of spoilers.
So it has an interesting premise and a good cast. What's wrong with The Killing Gene then? Well, Shankland excels at creating an atmosphere; New York has perhaps never looked worse than it does here; a hellish place of pimps, whores, gangbangers, drug addicts and, of course, psychopaths, films like this can't make the Board of Tourism very happy. While he was concentrating intently on creating mood Shankland forgot that every film must move along at a decent pace to maintain interest. There are way too many extraneous scenes and subplots that should have been cut. How many times do we need to see a close-up of Skarsgård puffing on a cigarette before flicking it away while the camera follows the cigarette as it rolls on the ground? He also favors extreme close-ups of his actors. It's a compliment to her beauty that not even piss-poor lighting and unflattering close-ups manage to detract from Melissa George's ability to look stunning.
Filled with countless pointless scenes, The Killing Gene is the perfect example of a film that should have been great but instead is almost singlehandedly wrecked by an over-indulgent director.
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