True Crime is a genre I have never enjoyed. There is something disgustingly voyeuristic about the whole thing. I have always thought that itís only those people whose lives arenít interesting enough who have to become obsessed with exploiting the lives of others. Itís even more pathetic when the fascination is with watching people suffer. What kind of people enjoy following the suffering and misery of others?
True Crime isnít the only genre which attracts the desperate and pathetic. All of you who watch reality TV or are fascinated with the break up of Brad and Jen are just as bad so donít go thinking you are superior.
Anyway, I tried to put my bias behind me when I went to see Karla, the American film exploration of the story of Karla Homolka, one of Canadaís most notorious killers. At first I was mostly impressed that the film kept most of the exploitative bits to a minimum. Most incidents occurred off screen. Karla herself isnít portrayed as a martyr and, although abused, is culpable for her crimes. Still there was something that just kept Karla from being anything more than your typical disposable TV movie of the week.
Probably the biggest weakness of the film is the lead actress (in good TV movie form itís a second rate TV actress in the lead0. Laura Prepon who has been wooden on That 70s Show for years is just as wooden and boring as ever in Karla. She just doesnít have the chops to get into creating an intricate portrayal of a killer. Therefore the movie is mostly in lull and never rises above a Crime Stoppers-like re-enactment.
Karla should have been a TV movie and thatís where you should see it. Wait until it inevitably airs on television.