Editor's Note: This was originally published for FANGORIA on October 26 2007, and we're proud to share it as part of The Gingold Files.
How do you startle the audience for the Saw movies, who have by now seen just about everything in terms of horror, gore and torture? In the opening scene of Saw IV, the answer is: Give ’em a lingering look at Jigsaw’s genitalia, as his dead body lies on a morgue autopsy table. Whether or not these are Tobin’s balls or the cadaver is a prosthetic mockup is uncertain, because the movie very quickly demonstrates how advanced the state of the art is when it comes to makeup FX, as the deceased villain’s scalp is peeled off, his skull cut open and his brain removed. Francois Dagenais, who created this wet work and also contributed to the previous sequels, has been an unsung hero of this franchise; he’s not nearly as well-known as, say, the KNB guys, but he’s equally skilled at slinging the gore.
As for the key folks behind the camera…well, they painted themselves into a hell of a corner by dispatching not only Jigsaw but his accomplice Amanda at the end of Saw III. But the games must continue when there’s still a profit factor of 10 to be made, and Saw IV’s setup also promises to answer a question that has nagged throughout the series: How have a bedridden cancer patient and an ex-junkie who, we learn here, weighs only a hair over 100 pounds contrived their incredibly elaborate death machines and chambers? They must have had help, someone theorizes, and that fact becomes obvious as SWAT team leader Riggs (Lyriq Bent) is plucked from being a briefly seen supporting player in the last film to running a gauntlet of horrific setpieces as the new one’s protagonist.
Well, sort of. Riggs is the focal point of the opening act, as he embarks on a quest to find out who has not only been killing practically every law-enforcement officer he has worked with, but abducted one of his colleagues as well. But then a pair of FBI agents, Perez (Athena Karkanis) and Strahm (Scott Patterson), show up to begin an investigation of their own. And we’re introduced to Jigsaw’s ex-wife Jill (’80s starlet Betsy Russell in an effective comeback performance), who is brought in for lengthy interrogations. And there are flashbacks to Jigsaw’s earlier life with Jill, in the modern screen tradition of getting to the root of a villain’s mania. And there are cutaways to the latest captives (no fair giving away who they are just now) struggling in their chain-and-shackle bondage. And every so often, there are flashes of persons living and dead from the previous movies thrown in. I know that both the moral and narrative complexity of the Saw flicks has helped raise them above typical kill-’em-off fare, but by this point, trying to keep all the characters, their relationships and roles in the story straight is starting to feel like homework.
Give new-to-the-series scriptwriters Patrick Melton and Marcus Dunstan credit for doing theirs; the Feast duo (who share story billing with Thomas Fenton) have clearly gone over the previous installments with a fine-toothed comb to tease out as many strands as possible to weave into their screenplay. Indeed, they’ve probably been too ambitious; Saw IV is so hopelessly convoluted that it’s hard to remain emotionally invested in the action. More crucially, there isn’t a true protagonist for us to identify with, as no individual’s story is given enough weight for us to focus our sympathies. Riggs, the ostensible lead, vanishes from the action for long stretches of time—and when he is on screen, part of Jigsaw’s test involves Riggs actually effecting the deaths of a couple of supporting miscreants. These circumstances render him less a tragic hero than a pawn in a plotline that is so intent on revealing the darkness of the human soul that it neglects the possibility of an alternative, which saps out the drama.
In an attempt to add urgency to the proceedings, Saw IV, for the first time in the franchise, adds a literal ticking clock: Jigsaw, or whoever, has given Riggs 90 minutes to complete his task and set up big digital displays along the path to remind him and the audience how much time is left. Sorry, but I’m a big fan of TV’s 24, and I still don’t buy that all this movie’s action could take place over an hour and a half. Nor do I believe that Jill would submit to Strahm’s increasingly antagonistic grilling without calling a lawyer, or without pointing out the fact that, as far as we’re shown, he doesn’t have a shred of hard evidence against her.
What this film does have going for it is a better pace than the third film and a few individual setpieces that, even at this point in Saw’s history, can still get you squirming. Series regular director Darren Lynn Bousman utilizes some really nifty visual transitions that help all the crosscutting go down a little easier, and it’s nice to see Bell up and about in those flashbacks, bringing gravitas to a part that was in danger of descending into sameness by this point. And of course, there’s a big twist ending, which isn’t as cool as those in the first and second films but is a lot cleaner than the one in part three. The revelation does beg a few explanations—but of course, those will no doubt be addressed in the inevitable Saw V.
Beyond that, it’s more than fair to ask what another installment will have to offer that the other films haven’t already given us. Clearly the filmmaking team can come up with endless ways to torture their victims physically, but this particular brand of psychological torment has pretty much been played out. Saw now finds itself in the situation all sequels do: How to deliver the elements that gave its predecessors their specific appeal without resorting to repetition. As Saw IV’s ads themselves put it so succinctly: It’s a trap.
