'Locusts' a Confused Film Debut

The Locusts, the debut feature of writer-director John Patrick Kelley, is perhaps the first film ever to use the castration of a steer as a major plot point.

The act comes late in the film, when Kate Capshaw, playing a no-nonsense femme fatale-cum-cattle ranch owner, takes revenge on her emotionally retarded son Flyboy (Jeremy Davies) for dropping his role as flunky to become "man of the house." (Flyboy, since his father's suicide, only speaks to said steer.) This sequence, along with a steamy sex scene between Vincent Vaughn and Ashley Judd, had to be heavily edited in order to avoid an NC-17 rating. But even with the editing, it's still a visceral piece of filmmaking. Kelley finds just the right tone to make what could have been the year's grossest cinematic moment, into something that's as disturbing as it is oddly poetic. But it is not representative of the film as a whole, which mixes elements of film noir and moralist western, with a hint of '50s teen angst. It is one of a few good scenes that connect both visually and emotionally in a convoluted, excessive jumble.

The Locusts stars Vaughn (Swingers, The Lost World) as Clay Hewitt, a man on the run who ends up in a small Kansas town, and goes to work at a ranch owned and operated by Capshaw. Capshaw immediately begins to seduce Vaughn, causing sexual tension and rivalry with other ranchers. Clay escapes from the growing soap opera on the range, through his relationship with a local girl (Judd). But when Vaughn befriends Flyboy, teaching him how to be man and not to take abuse from Capshaw, a skewered triangle erupts between the three of them, with Capshaw turning up the sexual energy with Vaughn, Vaughn turning Flyboy against Capshaw, and Flyboy getting caught hopelessly in the middle.

It's at this point that the movie loses all its tension and coherence The Locusts is beautifully filmed, especially in the scenes where the film goes for a western feel, and Kelley does deliver some striking images. But as in so many debut features, the script attempts to take on too much, sacrificing narrative focus for stylistic flair. What starts out as a younger, less bleak '50s version of After Dark My Sweet quickly turns into a meandering hodgepodge, alternating between generic buddy flick (obligatory scene in which cool guy teaches socially inept guy how to dress and impress the ladies) and violent cowboy soap opera. There's nothing wrong with genre fusing or having characters whose individual stories could constitute an entire script in themselves, but this film does it sloppily. By the time The Locusts reaches its wanna-be tragic climax, jumping from Capshaw and Vaughn going head to head to Judd having a picnic with Davies, you feel as if you're watching two different movies. What's meant to be seen as ambitious and dramatically compelling comes across as strung out and hollow.

The actors suffer from the script's lack of focus. Vaughn is likable as Clay, projecting definite screen presence particularly when he is required to be in James Dean mode-but simply doesn't have enough to work with. Capshaw delivers a few good lines, but just never seems mean enough (despite the castration scene) to be a sultry villainess. The great Judd proves once again that she's good enough to act in anything. In one of the quieter scenes in the film, with Judd and Davies sitting in swings at a drive-in movie theater, their faces silhouetted against the screen, she is charming, seductive and intelligent. It is more focused scenes such as this one that show Kelley's potential as a filmmaker.