The Weirdo (1988)

The Weirdo is a very slow-moving picture, even by Milligan's standards. It concerns a young man, Donnie, who would be considered to have mild mental retardation. He is able to express himself simply and do simple tasks, and that's about it. Well, except for lusting after pretty girls, wanking, and falling in love. A girl named Jenny, who is an outcast with a spinal injury that hinders her walking, befriends the much-abused Donnie and they begin to grow close. When the people in Donnie's life--some good and some bad--begin threatening his relationship with Jenny, he gets violent.

As always with Milligan's horror films, The Weirdo is about as horrific as Hour of the Wolf. His films, or at least the three that I've seen, are character studies that descend into violence or horror, but begin with psychology. Milligan has much more in common with Bergman than he does with HG Lewis. I wonder if he only puts gore in his films to improve the odds of their getting seen.

The time and effort Milligan puts into building up the psychology of all the major characters involved and the world Donnie and Jenny inhabit pays off. They are both wounded doves; people who are vulnerable, have been abused, and never given the opportunity to flourish and really be happy. They are both coming from a milieu of abuse, broken families where they are not wanted or loved. They warrant great sympathy. For whatever reason, Milligan's pictures do affect me on an emotional level. I feel the fear, the horror, the disturbance I should feel. What's odd about The Weirdo is that you feel more suspense at the prospect of Donnie not murdering than murdering. You're always waiting for him to snap, but it takes him a very long time to do so. This earns him a lot more sympathy: he's not just a lunatic.

The dialogue I have applauded so often in the previous Milligan films I've seen is here a little off at times. He's too liberal with inserting his thematic concerns into his characters' lines. Donnie, who normally utters very simple sentences, suddenly comes out with, "Lots of people talk to me. But no-one has ever talked with me before." That's a pretty fine distinction for a man of his intelligence. Naturally it's imposed on the character by the author: Donnie could never have made that distinction. Usually the dialogue is on form and realistic, however, and is effective at pulling the audience into the psychological world of Donnie.

As always in a Milligan picture, the camerawork is peculiar. Awkward editing occurs during scenes of violence. It is nowhere near as chaotic as in The Bloodthirsty Butchers, but it's still occasionally confused. There are also the usual dutch tilts; I like dutch tilts when they're used well, and I have a feeling Milligan has a reason for using them where he does.

As I said, The Weirdo is very slow-moving and has a lot in common with Bergman pictures in that it dwells on the mounting psychological disturbances within its characters. When the violence finally does erupt, it might not be very satisfying for others. I personally enjoyed the central characters and their relationship; I had a great deal of sympathy for them, perhaps because they resemble people I know in character. This is more recommended for fans of a Southern Gothic melodrama with some revenge tragedy violence erupting in the final act than for fans of the usual b-movie horror fare.