TED BUNDY

Disturbing but unenlightening

By Abbie Bernstein     September 20, 2002

Ted Bundy is perhaps one of the more disquieting known cases in modern criminal lore. He confessed to murdering over 35 women in the mid-'70s; there is speculation that the actual number of women he stalked, raped, killed and in some cases dismembered and/or had necrophiliac sex with is much higher. According to an end title, the term "serial killer" was first coined for Bundy.

Bundy got away with his actions for as long as he did in large part because he didn't fit stereotypical preconceptions of a rapist/murderer. He was young, good-looking, bright, articulate, educated, had a steady girlfriend and volunteered at a rape crisis hotline.

TED BUNDY, directed by Matthew Bright and co-written by Stephen Johnson and Bright, gives us about half the picture. Well before the end, we understand completely how Bundy committed his crimes it's a bit mind-blowing and dismaying that he was able to abduct so many women with such ease, but that's what happened. However, the filmmakers appear so reluctant to engage in any form of pop psychology that we never feel that we get the why of either Ted's pathology (okay, he hates women with a passion a lot of men feel the same way, but they don't attempt and/or manage to outright kill quite so many) or why he went so undetected for so long.

We meet Ted (Michael Reilly Burke) as a secretly stressed-out college student who spends even his off-hours in a three-piece suit with a bow tie. Ted has a pretty, needy girlfriend, Lee (Boti Ann Bliss), a young single mom who frets about their relationship. Ted also has a habit of impulsive stealing and spying on women through alley windows while frantically masturbating (to the annoyance of neighbors). One night, the latter progresses to a break-in/bludgeoning/rape/murder (it's unclear whether the rape occurs pre- or post-mortem) and Ted is on his way.

Bright depicts

Ted's actions in a fairly matter-of-fact way there are no jump scares although there are a few pitch-black comedy bits, including some montages that show Ted enjoying post-coital relaxation among a collection of corpses. Reilly Burke is excellent at showing both Ted's surface charm and the eviscerating rage underneath it's an extremely cohesive portrayal of a man with disparate characteristics. Tom Savini's makeup effects are persuasive-looking and Savini himself turns up in an efficient cameo as a police investigator.

It's admirable that Bright and Co. try to eschew cheap rationalizations or leaping to conclusions, but after awhile, the lack of investigative momentum regarding Ted's actions and Lee's reactions creates a weird lull, even when we're watching stalking and killing. The filmmakers are fascinated by the statistics and dichotomies surrounding their subject, but they don't have much to add beyond the facts. An end title notes that while Bundy was on death row, he received 200 love letters a day from women, but we don't get insight into this phenomenon, nor any notion, beyond look-at-this-weird-contrast, as to how Bundy's more conventional relationships lasted as long as they did.

Because the movie mostly depicts Bundy's assaults as quick, from-the-back knock-outs, his putative charm is far less an issue than his ability to blend into surroundings Bright and Co. are onto something bizarre and compelling here, but they don't quite know what to do with the conundrum of their central figure.

In the end, it feels almost as if someone had decided to give HALLOWEEN's Michael Myers a daytime personality without touching the underlying horror and mystery of his violence. It may be that Ted Bundy really was ultimately as inexplicable as a mythical monster, but once the movie broaches the matter of the discrepancy between his public persona and his private depredations, some exploration of the issue seems in order.

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