Film Review: Destroyer

Karyn Kusama has long been one of the most underappreciated filmmakers out there, from her impressive debut, Girlfight back in 2002, to the criminally misunderstood Jennifer’s Body in 2009, to her haunting 2015 horror film, The Invitation. What I’m trying to say is, she’s the real deal, and her latest film, Destroyer is another brilliant addition to an eclectic oeuvre. The film, which is written by Kusama’s regular collaborators, Phil Hay and Matt Manfredi, is about troubled police detective, Erin Bell (Nicole Kidman), who finds herself confronting people from when she went undercover in the past, and hoping to set things right once and for all.

It’s hard to not be immediately struck by the disheveled look of Nicole Kidman’s character. The makeup on her is pretty extensive and striking, with the camera never shying away from her face. It is not, however, a case of makeup doing all the work. Kidman is absolutely terrific here, truly embodying the moral grey areas that her character navigates, and how she has to confront the ugliness that she has dealt with, often by her own doing. It’s very much a classic hardboiled archetype, but having it played by a woman in this case – and without softening the edges of everything that archetype entails – the film brings in its own nuances that separate it from many other films like this. Plus, having a supporting cast like Sebastian Stan, Toby Kebbell, Tatiana Maslany, Bradley Whitford, Jade Pettyjohn, Scoot McNairy, and James Jordan are also wonderful here, each of whom are absolutely reveling in the material.

Speaking of playing on classic hardboiled archetypes, the film is full of the kind of familiar themes and ideas you’d see in pulpy crime stories. There’s fractured familial relationships with its flawed protagonist, themes of guilt and redemption, and plenty of gritty violence. If you’re a genre aficionado, you will recognize these elements, and probably see where certain things go. However, it’s a testament to the fiercely uncompromising vision of Kusama’s filmmaking. It’s an exceptionally made film that beautifully captures a oft-unexplored places within LA, especially in how it manages to bring a down-and-dirty feel contrasted with the bright and sunny environment, courtesy of Julie Kirkwood’s cinematography. Even the score by Theodore Shapiro is appropriately propulsive and tense. On a script level, the film runs the risk of being relentlessly grim, but the filmmaking makes it so effortlessly watchable and engaging.

The film also has small doses of humor, usually rooted with the way some of Bell’s co-workers react to her behavior. There’s one particular moment I loved where she bashes the face of a suspect in the middle of a shop, and drags the suspect away, and only before exiting does she turn to the terrified customers and yell out, “I’m a cop!” It’s certainly a bleak sense of humor, but the sprinkles of it tickled me. Though, where the film has the potential to really lose its audience are in some of the narrative choices, especially one towards the end. I won’t give away the nature of it, but it’s something that is brazenly out of left field and admittedly very unnecessary in the grand scheme of things, but it’s so beautifully executed that I found myself applauding at the audacity of it.

Destroyer might come off as too grim, too weird, or too indulgent for some, but it pushed all the right buttons for me. I loved every deliciously trashy and amazingly broody second of this. It’s a riveting experience from start to finish, and the filmmakers methodically peel the narrative one layer at a time, bringing more compelling details about our characters until things finally become clear in the end. I might even go as far as to say it is Kusama’s most accomplished work yet, and it definitely ranks among the best performances Kidman has ever given. The film doesn’t mess around, and doesn’t pull any punches, but despite that, there’s moments of quietness, moments of empathy for its imperfect central character that hit just as hard, and those emotions – the pain, the anger, the regret – will linger long after the film is over.