“Like Father Like Son” is at once unintentionally hilarious and borderline reprehensible, and it’s the closest approximation to the disaster of “The Room” since Tommy Wiseau’s cult favorite first graced arthouse theaters over 20 years ago.
The mastermind behind this movie is writer-director Barry Jay, the Barry’s Boot Camp founder turned filmmaker. And the comparison to “The Room” is in no way an indication for you to run out with your friends to laugh and scream and throw things at the screen during a raucous midnight screening. “Like Father Like Son” has a far darker heart, which is shockingly on display within the first three minutes. And if, for some reason, you miss the beginning of the movie, don’t worry. Jay will return to the violent act that sets the story in motion over and over again throughout his numbingly repetitive editing structure. This movie only runs 89 minutes, but it feels twice as long.
Stilted and surreal, “Like Father Like Son” often seems like a scuzzy fever dream, with wildly jarring tonal shifts and characters who never for a second speak or act like recognizable human beings. Everyone is angry all the time (except for Mayim Bialik and Vivica A. Fox in bit parts, and who knows why they’re here–maybe they got free workouts in exchange for a couple of days on set), and when they’re not angry, they’re weirdly calm in the face of extreme trauma.
Chief among them is the bland Dylan Flashner as Eli, a troubled young man who finds himself adrift after his janitor father, Gabe (Dermot Mulroney), kills a stranger in the park in broad daylight for bullying a kid. This horrific event, which Eli witnessed, will play out in his mind (and in front of our eyes) repeatedly during the film, as he acts on his own rageful instincts by killing several strangers himself. He insists these people had it coming, but rather than functioning as an avenging angel, he’s more like a discount Batman, bashing people’s heads in with flashlights and rocks in dark alleys.
But he doesn’t seem terribly tormented by his own actions; returning home after one killing late in the game, his dark, fluffy hair is still perfect, and he doesn’t have a speck of blood on his light blue button-down. This is the most boring serial killer you’ve ever seen. But we’re meant to feel his inner anguish through the quick and screechy flashbacks that occur during these heightened moments of violence. His father’s face, his father’s crime, his father on the other side of the prison glass: You’ll see Mulroney’s scowl so consistently, you could set your watch to it.
Still other edits make absolutely no sense, as in the random cutaways to homeless encampments and aerial city shots in the middle of conversations, like Jay got distracted within his own story and wondered: “Hmm, what’s going on over here …?” (Danny Draven is credited as the editor.)
The main inspiration for Eli’s killing spree is Hayley (Ariel Winter), a perky, redheaded runaway who moves in with him and becomes his girlfriend, even after he tried to choke her to death on their first date. (Actually, the word “date” suggests a structure that’s lacking. He picked her up outside a stairway that serves as one of the low-budget production’s main locations.) The way she seems totally undaunted by his murderous streak isn’t just dismaying, it’s nonsensical from a narrative perspective.
Jay’s attempts to wedge in romance amid the bloodshed are both awkward and banal; Eli and Hayley share a joint, and their dreams of a happiness that can never be, on the front porch one night. Then it’s back to more mayhem: a white supremacist here, a child molester there. The vile nature of these characters and their worldviews seems solely intended to shock us. The film wants us to celebrate the vengeful nature of these gruesome acts, even as some final title cards remind us with false solemnity that such violent tendencies can be hereditary, so breaking the cycle is crucial.
But my favorite part of the movie–spoiler alert–is the fact that Mulroney’s character kills a guy, gets arrested and charged with murder, goes to trial, gets convicted, receives a death sentence, and is executed, all within a span of maybe a month. A title card at the start says: Summer 1990. When he’s pronounced dead toward the end, the date is June 6, 1990. You could glean more about how the justice system works by having “Law & Order” reruns on in the background while you fold laundry.
It’s so bizarre, it’s enough to make you wonder, did any of this even happen? Maybe it was a fever dream after all.
