
The latest "simultaneous theatrical/HBO Max" premiere is a bit of an odd one -- a "throwback", 90s-set serial killer thriller that's, well, not very thrilling (outside of a few dead bodies there's scarcely any R-rated activity here at all) and ends up much more interested in making statements about the human condition.
In fact it may be that writer-director John Lee Hancock didn't really want to make a genre exercise, and used the formula -- disgraced veteran cop Denzel Washington helps young L.A. hotshot Rami Malak track a killer -- as a cover for a character drama that talks about obsession, accidents, and justice (well, sort of). Washington does a fine job, trying to add layers to the sort of character we've seen many times before, and Malek is fine in support, but Hancock's cast extends only out to one other actor -- Jared Leto, playing a creep who might be a killer, but whose role in the story is so transparent that it's too obvious there's going to be "more" (or, in this instance, less) to his part than the film is letting on.
Fans of this kind of movie might be extremely disappointed by the lack of violence, action and, at times, even tension -- Hancock isn't very adept here at squeezing much suspense out of this exercise, even with the stylish cinematography and '90s setting. Yet if you're someone like me who's had enough "Silence of the Lambs" to last a lifetime, the surprising introspection of the film -- as undernourished as it may be -- is a welcome relief to an extent.
Turns out THE LITTLE THINGS isn't "that" kind of movie, and the ending may leave you wondering how else Hancock could have better told this story in a way that wasn't as reliant on incorporating serial-killer cliches that his movie, ultimately, has little use for.