Main cast: Seann William Scott (Evan Cole), Mariela Garriga (Lauren Cole), Dale Dickey (Marie Cole), Kevin Carroll (Detective Overstreet), and Matthew Bellows (Charles “Chris” Henry Cole III)
Director: Henry Jacobson
While Bloodline is a movie released under the ever-present Blumhouse production company, it veers more into dark thriller territory. Sure, the opening scene is the usual naked-woman-getting-killed-in-the-shower thing, but the killer in question is the protagonist, Evan Cole. Yes, this movie is all about him doing his thing.
Evan is a social worker that counsels troubled teens. He’s not very good at it, if you ask me, as he drifts past his days looking morosely at everyone and everything, while speaking as if the act of vocalizing pained him so. Then again, it is quickly revealed that he carries a crap load of baggage: he murdered his abusive father when he was younger, and his mother Marie helped to cover up the crime. It is not surprising that he now takes it onto himself to kill the parents that abuse his charges—in fact, it is his most effective way of collecting himself; killing these abusive monsters works better than any antidepressants one can find in the market.
Meanwhile, he and his wife Lauren welcome their first baby, but the little dear refuses to breastfeed. Lauren will not entertain the idea of giving her baby formula milk. Marie eventually steps in to help get things back in order, because that’s what mother does best. Meanwhile, one of Evan’s charges begins to suspect that the social worker has killed his father, and begins asking uncomfortable questions.
There are some good ideas in this one. Sure, the whole damaged anti-hero shtick that is embodied by Evan isn’t anything new or original, but the concept that goes into this movie is pretty intriguing. I like the idea of how the ordinary, day-by-day frustrations are the most terrifying things in Evan’s life, so much so that calmly interrogating his victims before killing them brutally is the only way he can calm his nerves. Evan is OCD enough that every murder has to follow a set ritual—the same way he murdered his father—and the one time he is interrupted during his ritual in this movie, he obviously has a hard time getting his focus back until he gets it right the next time. Living is hard, and killing is therapy.
Furthermore, I could like the twist of a development later in this movie, if the character that played the pivotal role in that scene had been developed better.
That’s the issue that kept Bloodline down: the story develops through a combination of cold, choppy scenes punctuated with clumsy exposition disguised as conversations. Practically everyone in this movie is morose, depressed, or both, but there is little else beneath the surface. The movie only reveals certain aspects of a character when it is convenient to the plot, often too late to get me to care in any way for that character. As a result, these characters never feel real; they are just chess pieces, so to speak, on director and co-screenwriter Henry Jacobson’s chess board, so to speak.
Anyway, this is a watchable movie, and Seann William Scott certainly has come quite a long way from his American Pie days. The whole thing doesn’t feel as well put-together as it should have been, though. This movie is like a meal without seasoning—while it is edible, I just don’t feel the same kind of satisfaction that I would have if the meal in question had been properly flavorful.
