The first "Saw" that doesn't outright suck!

I'm not one to complain about violence and gore in movies. I'm not even someone who argues that it has to be justified with a heavy topic like World War II or the Crucifixion. I'm a tough guy; I can take it. Some can't, and some people argue that repulsive, sadistic violence is a easy out for horror film makers who can't sustain suspense. I think that's a really simplistic notion; the two things are too similar for one to be innately superior to the other. Some people rejected the first two Saw movies outright because of their violence. I really think that shouldn't be held against it, not when critics should be aiming at their stupidity, which upset me a lot more.

Speaking solely in terms of violence, Saw III delivers the goods. It is probably one of the most brutal movies I've ever seen; I don't think I've ever felt more sympathetic pain watching a movie. And it's more creatively painful, too; some of the bizarre torture chambers in this movie actually seem to be inspired by Dante's Inferno, which is certainly a step in the right direction for a franchise that's previously only been a tired retread of Se7en.

But more importantly, this is the first movie in the series that has more going for it than torture and a series of cheap gotcha plot twists. Saw III has both a brain and, amazingly, a heart; it's not just sadistic, it's also kind of sad. People cry in this movie, for reasons other than having their flesh ripped apart. I was really kind of blindsided by this movie; screenwriters James Wan and Leigh Whannell seem like they actually sat down and seriously thought about these movies for once before making decisions on what should happen.

Unfortunately, I think you have to have sat through the first two movies to really get this one. For those who haven't seen them (spoilers ahead), they star Jigsaw (Tobin Bell), a serial killer who kidnaps people who are wasting their lives and puts them in deadly, ridiculously complex tests. Apparently the point is that those strong enough to escape will have earned back their right to live and be more thankful for their own existence. We know from the first movie that the killer is actually a terminally ill cancer patient disgusted that he has to lose his life while people around him do nothing with their own; we know from the second movie that he's picked up a protege in Amanda (Shawnee Smith), one of the few to survive his death traps and was subsequently cured of her heroin addiction.

Jigsaw has picked up two new victims in the sequel. One is a man drowning in alcoholic rage; his test is to see whether he has it in him to save the lives of a gauntlet of Jigsaw's victims, all of whom are partially responsible for the death of his son. The other is a heavily Prozac-ed surgeon failing her marriage; her task is to keep the now-near-death Jigsaw alive long enough for him to see what happens to the first victim.

One of the first things that this movie does right is that it develops the relationship between Jigsaw and Amanda. Whereas Jigsaw had been an omnipotent Hannibal Lecter/John Doe villain type, he actually kind of becomes human in this movie. He becomes more of a charismatic, Manson-ish cult leader, commanding a flock of one. Amanda, too, is given more depth. She clearly had some serious issues in the past that caused her to turn to heroin, and Jigsaw got her to kick the habit by giving her something to believe in. Their relationship is actually fairly complex: teacher/student, father/daughter, possibly lovers too. Jigsaw has clearly become a replacement for heroin for her, but how healthy can their relationship possibly be? She feels special because she is his only follower and friend; when the surgeon performs a life-saving operation on him, she seethes with jealousy over another woman being important to him. An actual, bonafide love triangle breaks out in this movie; the Saw movies sure took a weird route to becoming a serious character drama.

And what of Jigsaw himself? Amanda was one of his first victims, and an early success. Not just an early success, but a rousing success; she was actually grateful for his help and was converted to his beliefs. He calls her the only person who understands him and what he's trying to do; if Amanda hadn't come along, would he still continue doing what he does? It would be physically impossible, of course, since Amanda apparently does most of the heavy lifting. But more importantly, she gives him hope and confirmation that he's doing the right thing here. If you notice, he doesn't seem to have helped too many others over the course of these films.

It's interesting to think that this film, by necessity, has to be carried on the backs of two actors who had very, very limited roles in the first movie. Unfortunately, I'm not so sure that Shawnee Smith is up to the task of carrying a heavy dramatic role, I don't think too many, especially in the mainstream, are going to be that impressed. Tobin Bell, on the other hand, is an absolutely amazing find. He exudes authority and charisma; even on his deathbed he knows how to look in complete control. He's a malevolent Yoda, he lives in excruciating pain and he accepts it, and he feels genuine emotion too.

While the Jigsaw/Amanda relationship is the meat and potatoes of this movie, the alcoholic dad's journey also turns out to be fairly meaningful. It's one thing to fantasize about killing all those who hurt you, but it's another to actually seem them die. In order to save one of the victims, Jigsaw forces him to burn all his dead son's belongings and pictures, a powerfully symbolic move.

Darren Lynn Bousman, director of this movie and the last one, knows how to ape David Fincher fairly well, but he hasn't really developed a style of his own yet. Of course, most of what he does works here. One thing I would have very much done away with is a series of flashy edited montages right at the height of every torture sequence; it only distances us from their pain. One particularly horrific sequence where Bousman has the good sense to not flinch isn't about killing but life-saving, a bit of emergency surgery that's almost as terrifying as the dismemberments.

Another good move is that the movie gives the lie behind some of Jigsaw's sillier beliefs. One character calls him out for contending that what he does isn't murder, and another will argue, with good reason, that surviving the deathtraps doesn't automatically make his victims better people. It also makes Jigsaw very firm in his beliefs -- his actions don't have to make sense to us as long as they make sense to him. He believes he's teaching the right lessons, and he can make a case for it; he earnestly wants that poor vengeance-fueled dad to learn forgiveness. Saw III even takes the time to fill in some of the previous films' plot holes.

Of course, the film never explains where Jigsaw gets his wonderful toys, or where he finds the space for these deathtraps, or how he's able to predict every single move his victims make, or how he manages to evade the police, etc., etc. But for once, I'm willing to forgive this, because this franchise finally moved beyond being just a series of dumb, gimmicky grossfests. One of the great things about horror franchises is that they often refine the formula with each subsequent movie (only a silly person could seriously believe that the best Freddy or Jason movie are the originals), and I think this one has hit its peak. I seriously cannot imagine a Saw movie made any better than this one.