Mark Reviews Movies: ME YOU MADNESS

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Review by Mark Dujsik | February 11, 2021

The term "vanity project" is tossed around a bit too freely and, usually, with a tinge of sexism (A man can write, direct, and star in a movie without the phrase being attributed to the result, but if a woman does the same thing, the term is, apparently, fair game). Perhaps the only good thing to come of filmmaker Louise Linton's Me You Madness is that it effectively kills the notion of a vanity project. It's difficult to imagine anyone making a movie as blatantly narcissistic as this one.

Linton stars as Catherine Black, the owner of a hedge fund firm who is inordinately wealthy, verifiably intelligent (The character points out having an IQ above 170), fashionable, beautiful, and, because the previous descriptor isn't enough to get to the core of what we're supposed to take from the character, irresistibly sexy. She's also an admitted narcissistic sociopath with a habit of murdering people, dismembering the corpses, and eating the flesh.

Maybe one is thinking that all of those positive attributes are counteracted by her existence as a serial killer and cannibal. Without giving away the direction this story takes, let's just say that Linton doesn't perceive those actions as a deal-breaker.

It's not just the character Linton plays that gives away the vanity on display, either. There's a moment here Catherine makes a pretty obvious double entendre after stabbing someone with a carving fork, and the wounded character actually breaks the fourth wall to announce, "Whoever wrote this screenplay is a f------ genius." In case one was wondering, yes, Linton, in addition to directing this mess of meta-gags and sickly morality, wrote the screenplay. One couldn't satirize such an attitude if one tried. It's all nakedly on the screen, presented with a lot of jokes surrounding the beliefs, but without a trace of self-aware irony.

The plot has Catherine luring con man and thief Tyler (Ed Westwick) into her home, under the guise of having him housesit. She's actually planning to murder and, one guesses, eat his corpse. After all, she's rich and sexy and smart and a sociopath, and he's poor and dumb and living a life of crime to make ends meet. Catherine is entitled to murder and consume the guy. Again, there's no irony to that statement in the movie's eyes, because Catherine and, by extension, Linton believe the character's status as an amoral murderer is some kind of act of feminism, claiming a role in movies often given to men.

This premise and the argument for it are so convoluted and naïve that it's basically impossible to dissect all of the ways that they fail. It is fascinating to note the way Linton elevates the perceived notions of gender equity and female empowerment in her story over matters of socioeconomic class (The way Catherine achieves redemption, by the way, completely contradicts the stated goal, so there's that, too).

One could dive into Linton's own political beliefs and connections in the formation of this obvious blind spot. There's even a scene in which Catherine goes through a list of the crimes of her victims (Since the character is a liar, it's impossible to know if they're real or invented). She and Tyler have a loaded, bug-eyed pause when she notes one's transgression was being a Republican. In acknowledging that Catherine's—and, hence, Linton's—choice of that as a sin is odd, the filmmaker certainly leaves herself and the movie open to such political scrutiny.

We'll avoid it, though, because the movie is filled with bad ideas, jokes, and messages that somehow keep getting worse as it progresses. Catherine drugs Tyler (making a point of how "refreshing" it is to see a woman grope an unconscious man), convinces him to eat human meat, and treats him to her body.

She's willing to let him go, but then, Tyler steals one of her precious cars. That—and not the crime of him conning her grandmother out of her life savings—is the reason she calls him back to her mansion with the goal of murdering him. Well, that's one, but there's also the body of a sweaty man she murdered in the trunk. The two fight, dance, and flirt during an extended climax, and at least the soundtrack of '80s hits is enjoyable.

It's almost impressive how a movie that imagines itself so knowing—all of the at-the-camera winking and references to other movies and proclamations of being wholly original—could be so absent of any critical or comedic thought. Me You Madness is a special kind of trash—a piece that's convinced it's priceless treasure.

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