The film neglects to indulge that craziness for a while, leaving it buried, playing it straight. That's easy to do; what's harder is to suggest simultaneously something amiss, which Karpovsky generally does in interludes—uneasily scored with electronic beats and lighted too harshly or dimly. Slowly, spadeful by spadeful, the script digs deeper into this disturbed character. His private longing, suggested by the occasional furtive glance held a beat too long, manifests in secret activities like soliciting prostitutes and stalking; his fixation, of course, eventually erupts in violence. Karpovsky and Garth Donovan's screenplay is way too obvious in its pat, momma's boy psychologizing. But Karpovsky's direction at least allows us to wrestle awhile with the banality of psychopathy.
Rubberneck debuts at the Tribeca Film Festival tomorrow at 6 p.m., and plays again on Monday the 23rd and Saturday the 28th. More info here.
Follow Henry Stewart on Twitter @henrycstewart