Something’s wrong with the boy.
Michael Rooker, making an explosive film debut, is a grimy, unhinged serial killer with absolutely no redeeming qualities, in a film which remains as uncomfortable as it is powerful.
Henry plays more like a documentary than a fiction film, as we follow an amoral monster sliding across the background of life, his brutality largely hidden because he’s otherwise so anonymous.
He doesn’t kill for any special reason. And there’s no glimmer of deep meaning behind his eyes, like a Hannibal Lecter.
Until he’s caught or killed, Henry will unleash pain and suffering. End of story.