Copycat begins with a sequence so strange, lucid and nail-bitingly tense that it feels like a bad dream, even though it turns out to be real. Dr. Helen Hudson, played with grace and keen intelligence by Sigourney Weaver, is lecturing her students, and there’s a killer in the crowd.
Anyone who has helped make “Seven” the most popular film of recent weeks should be interested to know there is also a good serial-killer movie around. And a very good thriller it is, too. Tautly directed by Jon Amiel (“Sommersby,” “The Singing Detective”), written and acted with unusual care, “Copycat” grippingly describes the hunt for a peculiarly modern monster, a murder groupie who has studied the techniques of past greats and replicates them to torment a star criminologist. Not only is he deadly, this fiend is also derivative, poisoned by the celebrity-worshiping mentality that’s almost as sinister as the crimes themselves.
Dr. Hudson is already on the alert, since she is accompanied by a bodyguard. But when he leaves her alone in a bathroom, she is ambushed by Daryll Lee Cullum (Harry Connick Jr., scarily effective as a homicidal geek.) The attack on Helen is so diabolically staged that it should scare the audience almost as thoroughly as it scares Helen herself. Let’s establish right here that despite such events, “Copycat” is far less exploitative than most other movies of its kind.
Thirteen months pass. Helen has spent this time as a prisoner. Left agoraphobic after the bathroom episode, she hides in her imaginatively designed San Francisco apartment, paid for by popular books she writes about the serial killer mentality. At home, Helen is so terrified that she recites a mantra of Presidents’ names just to calm down while she reaches outside to get the newspaper. She drinks too much but still retains her smoothly acerbic wit, and she is well tended by a charming assistant (John Rothman). Unfortunately, there are long hours when the assistant isn’t around.
A parallel part of this story concerns the police team investigating a string of serial murders. They are M. J. Monahan, played with delightful crispness by Holly Hunter, and her admiring young partner, Ruben Goetz, played dashingly by Dermot Mulroney. These two have terrific chemistry, and Mr. Mulroney’s matinee-idol presence doesn’t hurt matters at all. “Soooo cute,” sighed somebody behind me, watching him at a sneak preview of “Copycat” last Saturday night.
These principal characters have been finely drawn by the time “Copycat” flings them together. Helen hears of the police investigation, offers her services and points out that the Boston and Hillside Stranglers, Son of Sam and Jeffrey Dahmer are among the killer’s role models. The film’s murder scenes, shown fleetingly, are modeled after famous ones right down to the last detail. This proves more disturbing than it has to be. Even if “Copycat” makes fun of Daryll Lee Cullum as the author of a book called “My Life With a Knife,” a movie like this enhances the fame of people it claims to despise.
In addition, the conception of this film’s own killer poses some problems. It’s no fault of the actor who plays him that this homicidal nut is handsome enough to knock women dead on his own merits. Notwithstanding Ted Bundy (who is also mentioned here), good looks undermine this movie character’s menace. He’s also given a trite psychological motive, and he explains himself uninterestingly during a finale that doesn’t suit the film’s otherwise high standards. The less said by somebody like this, the better.
The screenplay for “Copycat,” by Ann Biderman and Jay Presson Allen from a story by David Madsen, is otherwise so crackling good that character development threatens to eclipse the actual crimes. It’s even disappointing when this thriller begins to go full throttle toward its action denouement, forgetting its best features along the way. Ms. Weaver’s Helen makes a powerful impression as an obviously gutsy figure appalled to find herself a victim, while Ms. Hunter delivers tart remarks with the sweetest of smiles. “Did anyone ever catch the Zodiac, sir?” she asks her boss at police headquarters (J. E. Freeman). “Or did he die of old age?”
Also in “Copycat” are Will Patton and William McNamara; among its notable technical contributions are Lazslo Kovacs’s coolly effective cinematography, Jim Clay’s production design and spine-tingling music by Christopher Young. Along with Mr. Amiel’s lean, thoughtful direction, these elements combine to make “Copycat” a film that can recall unsettling aspects of other thrillers — “Vertigo,” “Wait Until Dark,” “The Silence of the Lambs,” “Dirty Harry” — at will. But this film, unlike its homicidal wannabe, has a personality of its own.
“Copycat” is rated R (under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian). It includes brief but graphic glimpses of crime scenes, partial nudity, violence, profanity and considerable suspense. It would surely frighten children.
Copycat (1995)
Directed by: Jon Amiel
Starring: Sigourney Weaver, Holly Hunter, Dermot Mulroney, William McNamara, Will Patton, John Rothman, J. E. Freeman, Harry Connick Jr., Will Patton, Shannon O’Hurley
Screenplay by: Ann Biderman, David Madsen
Production Design by: Jim Clay
Cinematography by: László Kovács
Film Editing by: Jim Clark
Costume Design by: Claudia Brown
Set Decoration by: Catherine Davis
Art Direction by: Chris Seagers
Music by: Christopher Young
MPAA Rating: R for violence and language.
Distributed by: Warner Bros. Pictures
Release Date: October 27, 1995
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