Reviewed by Jon Barton

Watching Whitman without any real insight into the director Evan Strobel has ultimately left me far more satisfied. Whitman starts, it gets going and it hits you with consecutive punches, be it with camerawork, style, excellent framing and the overall shock value of the narrative, dealing with the true events of a man intent on obeying his genocidal tendencies. Having not known anything about the movie at all I'd have been far more cynical, and all too aware of the pretentious nature of films that deal with similar substance. But seemingly Whitman is more effective than you might initially think, constructed in such a way that darkens the whole piece, and effects the viewer profoundly. Its these moments of filmic gestus that make you realise that you shouldn't be enjoying something so deep, so seemingly meaningful. That is Whitman's power. Putting you in a place of attention, that you want to see what happens because in some macabre way you're enjoying the attitude of the film.

The best thing about Whitman in my mind is that it never stoops to self parody. Not once does Strobel use the now utterly preposterous ideas gunfiring seems to promote, such as bullet time and incessant blood without precedent. True Whitman uses gore but to the extent that heightens Charles Whitman's anguish and his story, thus emphasising the exploitation of these sequences. This gives Whitman yet another layer, a darker one that draws on violence and anger to draw you in further. At its worst Whitman is always watchable. At its best its wonderfully guilt-ridden yet beautifully fluid entertainment.

8/10