My Friend Dahmer (15) ★★★★
IT’S something of an uphill struggle to tell the story of one of the 20th century’s most heinous serial killers, Jeffrey Dahmer (played here by Ross Lynch), in his formative years. Are we meant to empathise with him or simply observe and recoil in quiet horror over what he’s becoming?
It’s a difficult task that writer-director Marc Meyers pulls off neatly with what is an intimate and consistently uneasy depiction of the years that led up to the real-life subject’s rape and murder of 17 young men between 1978 and 1991.
Set in Ohio in the short time leading up to Dahmer’s first murder, Meyers’s film is a surprisingly deliberately-paced and convincing portrait of his dysfunction in many forms: Dahmer’s home life with his loveless, constantly bickering parents (Anne Heche and Dallas Roberts) and his awkward interactions at school compounded by a sense of emotional repression and what appear to be primal needs that manifest themselves in animal torture and experimentation in the garden shed.
The title refers to the perspective of John “Derf” Backderf (Alex Wolff), a fellow student and eventual friend of Dahmer’s who wrote the graphic novel upon which the film is based. But the name could also mean us as viewers, growing ever more involved in the story of this young man and observing the tell-tale signs that, if acted upon by someone in his life, might have prevented his future hideous actions.
While the behavioural and psychological traits of the real Dahmer are believably and authentically depicted – namely the obsession with killing animals and his increasingly attention-seeking actions in the classroom – there is a certain sense that, as a piece of cinematic drama, it too plainly and simply telegraphs what he would later become.
Nevertheless, it’s an intriguing prospect that the film ponders and lingers over throughout, engaging with the idea of whether something could have been done to stop him or whether it was all inevitable. It is, for the most part, a coldly detached dramatic retelling that avoids sliding into sensationalism by exploiting or revelling in the formation of depravity.
Its more isolated approach is embodied and feeds into in Lynch’s central performance. In an infinitely darker role that will surprise anyone who knows him from his Disney Channel years, he sidesteps caricature for something more inward and insidiously unnerving, perfectly conveying the sense of repressed awkwardness often simply with a leering look or turn of phrase.
We are presented with Dahmer the person, not merely the bogeyman, and that makes it all the more unsettling.
Why are you making commenting on The National only available to subscribers?
We know there are thousands of National readers who want to debate, argue and go back and forth in the comments section of our stories. We’ve got the most informed readers in Scotland, asking each other the big questions about the future of our country.
Unfortunately, though, these important debates are being spoiled by a vocal minority of trolls who aren’t really interested in the issues, try to derail the conversations, register under fake names, and post vile abuse.
So that’s why we’ve decided to make the ability to comment only available to our paying subscribers. That way, all the trolls who post abuse on our website will have to pay if they want to join the debate – and risk a permanent ban from the account that they subscribe with.
The conversation will go back to what it should be about – people who care passionately about the issues, but disagree constructively on what we should do about them. Let’s get that debate started!
Callum Baird, Editor of The National
Comments: Our rules
We want our comments to be a lively and valuable part of our community - a place where readers can debate and engage with the most important local issues. The ability to comment on our stories is a privilege, not a right, however, and that privilege may be withdrawn if it is abused or misused.
Please report any comments that break our rules.
Read the rules here