David Fincher’s 1995 effort about two cops on the trail of a sadistic
serial killer has spawned dozens of imitators. Usually the stories
involve a smart-but-flawed law enforcement type on the trail of a
mysterious murderer who exhibits a unique method and motive. These
films revel in gruesome imagery and lurid deaths. Their plots
eventually lead to a moment when the culprit is finally unveiled,
revealing a friend, foe or loved one.

“Seven” is still the best of this bunch. (If you’re assuming that
“The Silence of the Lambs” is getting overlooked, that’s because the
movie is not a mystery. The villain is known from the outset.) And at
least every few months there is a new entry into the genre pool. Some
feature a novel twist. Some are purely derivative. Most star Ashley
Judd.

The latest culprit is “Taking Lives,” a slightly above average spin
on the “serial killer mystery.” It boasts an A-list cast, a talented
young director and an unconventional setting. But when the house
lights go up in the theater, a viewer will be hard pressed to
distinguish this flick from its similar brethren.

In “Taking Lives,” Angelina Jolie plays Illeana Scott, an FBI
profiler called in by French-Canadian police in Montreal to help pin
down the individual responsible for a string of murders. Apparently,
he slaughters a victim of similar physical stature then lives as this
person for a few years before discarding the identity for someone new.

The Surete officers compare his modus operandi to a hermit crab.

Fortunately, the police run across a noted artist (Ethan Hawke) who
interrupts the butcher during one of his crimes. Although hoping to
use this eyewitness to bait the killer, Agent Scott finds her own
abilities compromised when she begins to romantically connect with
him.

Veteran TV director D.J. Caruso (“The Shield”) draws some good
performances from his cast – especially the underrated Hawke – and
shows himself adept at staging shocking scenarios that keep the story
from getting bogged down.

His style is especially effective in the movie’s superior intro which
begins in the early ’80s with the teenage criminal first embarking on
his scheme. Shot in desaturated colors and employing an almost
documentary-like feel, the picture never quite matches the macabre
power of this opener.

What really compromises the impact of “Taking Lives” is that the
“surprise” about the identity of the madman is a foregone conclusion.
Sure, some red herrings are thrown in to plant elements of doubt. But
when all is revealed these seem in retrospect like cheap parlor
tricks.

Let it be said, however, that the film (which is based on the novel
by Michael Pye) resolves itself in a manner that is just plain
bizarre. If it wasn’t so graphically misogynistic it might be easier
to appreciate.

Although this finale doesn’t quite carry the impact of finding
Gwyneth Paltrow’s head in a box, at least it’s not just another
shootout between hero and serial killer.