Jack’s Back is a terrible title for any film; it’s even worse that the Jack involved is Jack the Ripper, one of the most infamous serial killers of all time. What makes it even stranger is that this horror/thriller hybrid isn’t even about Jack the Ripper, and is set in the 1980’s; inviting the audience to salivate over a real life murderer isn’t a great look, but further disappointing them leaves no-one satisfied. Writer/director Rowdy Herrington wrote this script as Red Rain, after the Peter Gabriel song he planned to open the film, but when that song proved prohibitive to licence, it got dumped and Jack’s Back was the replacement.
Having got all that out of the way, this is an odd, amusingly hokey film that offers a few points of interest, namely the lead performance by James Spader as identical twins, neither of whom are Jack the Ripper. Confused? You will be, as this film sets up a conventional policier, then delivers something…else. John Westford (Spader) is a goody two-shoes LA doctor, given to televised activism and helping out his fellow man. Meanwhile, a surgeon is re-creating the crimes of Jack the Ripper, murdering in a similar fashion to the Victorian killing spree. John Westford gets murdered; his brother Rick Westford (Spader with sunglasses) takes up the investigation, having experienced telekinetic visions of his brother’s last moments, and potentially knowing the possible identity of the murderer.
Ok, so that doesn’t make much sense, and it’s not the only issue here. It seems remarkable that the LAPD find a serial killer imitating Jack the Ripper to be such a boring affair; they see the investigation as a waste of manpower. The film-makers seem to think that the serial killer story should be relegated to a sub-plot, and that the focus should instead be on the Westford’s telekinetic link. This makes for a baffling, confusing but kind of original film, with Spader doing a decent if sub-Dead Ringers job of differentiating between the twins.
Barely released on DVD, Jack’s Back isn’t exactly a good movie, but it’s got a strong original idea and a strong lead; perhaps due to so much else going on, the final revelation of the killer at the end floored this critic. The 18 certificate trailers created expectations that Spader’s Rick Westford was the culprit, but…well, you’ll have to find out for yourself, but for hardened mystery addicts, there’s something engagingly off-centre about this over-cooked, under-seen thriller.
This is not bad. I started watching the full movie thinking it was a trailer with 2 minutes of credits on a grey background. It almost got canceled by my personal cancel department, but the video time gage told me otherwise. Good catch.
I aim to please!
And it was! I thought you’d be glad to know that this was a great film. Kind of like a serial killer smoothie movie.
I am pleased to know that; not for everyone, but kind of fun and original…thanks!
Goody, more Ripper flashbacks. The premise was reasonable—a paean to 100 year anniversary of the crimes, plus revenge noir with psychothriller/suspense vibe. I admire Spader though this isn’t a fav. You’re right, title is lame, and some of writing/story sloppy, e.g., twins don’t have identical fingerprints, med student drove $40K BMW, not determined Mary Kelly was pregnant… I was impressed Hypnotist used Azadian method. Since they couldn’t use the Gabriel song, they used music from Halloween??? (Worst Ripper remake has to be the Hasselhoff London Bridge/Lake Havasu travesity.) I would have liked the killer/writer to include more Ripper elements; did use 6-8 scalpel as weapon. The LA killer was left handed, wore gloves, careful (no witnesses), safe sex, smokes, strong… My alt title: Why Jack?
Or indeed, Where’s Jack? although that’s another thing entirely. There’s a Hallmark card in this, but yes, it was our previous conversation that led me to this particular movie, so the card would say ‘I saw this Jack the Ripper film and it reminded me of you!’ More accurate to say that I was keen to get a more expert eye than my own over this admittedly nonsensical film. I think Fincher-era serial killer movies would have gone to town on the details, I get the impression that the researcher here took most of his workday off…if we’re going to this particular market, Time After Time and Murder by Degree are the key texts for me, but I kind of admire the trashy/sloppiness of this, and Spader would go on to indule his dark side with more sturdy projects than this. Azadian is now a rabbit-hole for me to investigate, thanks as always!
not sure I spelled it correctly, but Azadian is a method of hypnotism using monotonous tone of voice and candle flame. After you stare for a bit, image is burned into brain, so when voice says ‘you still see the flame’ it’s believable–that’s what hypnotism is–getting person to believe you. Oh the stories… The Lodger, From Hell, Murder by Degree…all versions of Jack’s story. There’s even one about Jill, abortionist turned lady killer… As long as we still ask, Why? Who is Jack? they’ll film new takes… Always a pleasure to talk with you!
Nope.
Sigh.
Usually one Spader is enough so someone must have been confident to deliver a Spader overload. Still, ot does sound intriguing.
Sometime a job is too big for one James Spader; why have just one Spader when you can have two?
I liked James Spader in his younger years, then his middle years weren’t so interesting but The Black List got me interested again. He’s had quite the career.
The cover definitely makes it seem that Spader is the new jack the ripper. Not a fan of covers being so deceptive.
I saw the trailer for this when I was 17, and it never crossed my mind that he was not the killer. Very misleading. Didn’t think Spader would last the course, but Blacklist gave him a great showcase for his abilities…
Will check this out. I like these serial killer flicks. Some good ones out there on Jack the Ripper, Zodiac, Son of Sam, the Mad Blogger of Blanefield . . .
Not too familiar with that last one, any details on that? Quite a small village, not much goes on here…
Think he’s another one of those split personality types. Can maintain the mask of sanity while online, at least for a while, but then goes on these murderous sprees when the dark side takes over.
I’m not happy with the idea that I’m maintaining a mask of sanity online. Not for some time….
Since you know where I am, can you clarify which continent you live on for our many curious readers?
Well, there is therapy available. Also drugs. You can keep the beast under control.
As has been covered many times, I live on the great North American continent, specifically Canada. But I also visit other lands.
I knew it! There are some who simply refuse to believe that you live in Canada! They simply refuse to believe the truth; that a shambling man-beast bigfoot like yourself can exist in a supposedly civilised area!
Anyway, you’re not visiting any other lands right now, Bunty, so there’s no point in Fraggle waiting in Paris for Paul Rudd and some onions to turn up, is there?
I prefer Wendigo to Bigfoot.
Has Fraggle come to Paris? I haven’t seen her.
Because you not in Paris, numpty! You in Canada! She won’t find you because she thinks you look like Paul Rudd and not Morph.
I can see someone thinking I have a bit of Monsieur Rudd’s roguish charm. Didn’t shave yesterday so there’s that. Is he in Paris too? We should all get together.
Sigh. No, I’m not encouraging Fraggle to visit you, not unless she’s seen and wants to be closer to the action in The Hills Have Eyes. I’m not sure how this confusion started, but it’s now a daily problem to resolve. I also was accused of being French at the weekend, not a terrible crime, but casual readers seem to think there’s some kind of Jules et Jim thing going on here….
Did you respond “Don’t fuckin’ Jimmy me, Jules!”
Nope. And no Royale with cheese either. I’m writing about a trip to the cinema in Montpellier soon, so that should cause further chaos.
Ah, the Royale with cheese. Everything is the same here, but different.
What’s the population of that village this morning, by the way? One or two less? Have you disposed of the bodies yet? I’ve heard that’s always the tricky part.
Can’t comment until forensics have done their job. It’s all hazmat suits, flashing lights and police vans right now…getting the woodchopper fired up…
Then fertilizer? Or feed it to the sheep?
The mashed brains of Canadian film critics…
I know there aren’t any Canadians there. Unless you’re ordering severed heads from Amazon again.
I’ll order your severed head if you don’t behave!
They’re out of stock. You’ll just have to stick to your village. Surprised there’s anyone left.
Maybe I’ll come over and collect yours, Bunty. If the mood takes me…
I don’t know. Interpol is on to you and there are some pretty rough looking gendarmes marching about right now. I’m feeling pretty safe.
False sense of security, I’m not afraid of any indie band…
*sigh* You’re not Hannibal, you’re a backwater butcher. I doubt you’d make it far in such a sophisticated city. Glasgow, maybe. Not Paris.
I’ll use your skull as a goblet, sunshine, don’t think I won’t.
The mask of sanity is slipping. Is this the Beast talking now?
No, I’m talking TO the beast, and the beast is you.
Je suis à North Shields aujourd hui. Si ça aide
Is it in France?
Nope.
Just avoid visiting this scary village in Scotland. Backpackers have a way of disappearing in what’s been dubbed the Blanefield Triangle.
I’ll smash your baldy head like a creme egg if you keep going down this road, pal.
If anything happens to me I will be avenged by Fraggle, who I hereby name as Last Girl.
She’s the Last Girl I’d call if I need any help. Right, Alex, you behave on my blog! Otherwise you’ll see a good kill that the Lep would be proud of, OK, Bunty?
I’m your man!
Like any run-of-the-mill slasher you underestimate the Last Girl. But she will turn out to be resourceful and find a way to destroy you in a spectacular way that will allow of no sequels. You will be dis-enfranchised.
Fraggle? She’s probably photographing the plug from her toaster, she’s harmless enough…
Do what? What Last Girl? Had a busy day at work, ears galore, then had to do a photo (not a fekkin plug!) come on here and find myself promoted and then besmirched.
Welcome to my world, I find myself and my blog to be regularly besmirched. Alex has some deranged fantasy involving you murdering me, too many Leprechaun films seem to have pushed him over the edge, poor soul. I’ll send a medical team to sweep up his fetid remains in the morning, nothing to trouble you!
Practicing in preparation!! Fraggle the Destroyer!
Sigh. That didn’t take long.
It’s fine, I had a glass or few of wine and the destroy bits sort of dissolved. Yours truly, Fraggle the Mellow.
That’s the magic of vino! These ears won’t look at themselves!