Director Alexandre Moors doesn't play around. For Blue Caprice, his first feature, he chose a, shall we say, heavy subject: The Beltway sniper attacks of 2002, specifically the relationship between shooters John Allen Muhammad (Isaiah Washington) and Lee Boyd Malvo (Tequan Richmond). In the hands of a lesser director the story of these two men could've come out as an awful, a hackneyed, offensive Lifetime-style movie, or worse.
And yet Moors has crafted a psychological study that's terrifying and engrossing, an analysis of paranoia and power that keeps a steady, unwavering eye on its subjects without going out of its way to condemn them. After all, their crimes do that enough. Moors focuses on their time together before the shooting spree, Muhammad's megalomania and Malvo's desperate need for a father figure. You're unable to look away as Muhammad trains his young charge in how to be a sniper and as Malvo grows increasingly emotionally dependent on the man with whom he will come to kill ten unarmed civilians.
Blue Caprice is a movie that sticks with you, in large part because of the brilliant acting of Washington and Richmond. Special props go out to Richmond, who plays a largely inscrutable character with barely any lines, and yet he's mesmerizing. And his biggest role to date has been on General Hospital, for Christ's sakes! Someone needs to get this kid away from the soaps. He deserves better roles. Joey Lauren Adams and Tim Blake Nelson also turn in great performances as a couple that serves as Muhammad and Malvo's only real tie to the outside world.
Everything about this movie works perfectly to craft a stunning portrait of insanity. The acting, the cinematography, the structure—we know from the beginning what Muhammad and Malvo will go on to do, but we don't see it until the very end—and especially the music. Like the movie as a whole, it's jarring and offputting, capturing your attention and never failing to put you on edge.
