Unlike your standard serial killer film (wherein the cops are on the killer's trail), the only person who seems to be hip to The Photographer's dark side is Jade (newcomer Jade Risser), the pre-teen sister of the psycho killer's current girlfriend. The cameras follow a Las Vegas photographer (played convincingly by the brooding Sven Garrett) as he takes pictures of women, has sex with them, then tortures and kills them in his basement workshop.
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Palumbo's film is a great example of truth in advertising – M-S-P isn't so much a narrative as it is a series of interconnected set-pieces involving blood, sex, and gore.
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This is a movie shot on film – with a real crew and a budget. What's even more amazing about this is that Murder-Set-Pieces isn't some shot-on-video flick made by a guy with a few friends and a camcorder. Mary Harron's re-imagining of Ellis' novel was a bit of a letdown for gorehounds (the novel's violence was toned down dramatically to garner an R rating), but Palumbo's film never flinches from the grue and carnage that comes with the serial killer territory. It is, however, just as unrepentantly violent and morally bankrupt as Ellis' novel and it's hard not to imagine Patrick Bateman and Murder-Set-Pieces' The Photographer as kindred spirits slashing their way across the heartland. This is not to say that Murder-Set-Pieces is as deep and probing a work as Bret Easton Ellis' novel of serial murder in the "me, me, me" '80s – because it's not. Simply put, this is the film American Psycho should have been. It's not unlike Wes Craven's Last House on the Left – only without the stupid comedy bits. This is a mean little movie – it pulls no punches and genuinely wants to upset its audience in the process. This is why I will gladly champion any film like Murder-Set-Pieces – because Nick Palumbo understands what horror cinema's really supposed to be about. I'm not sure why this is – but I'm not a fan of the concept. For some reason, horror's become synonymous with "safe and predictable date movie". If I see another advertisement for a PG-13-rated horror film with some kid from a show on the WB, I may very well snap.
Of course, this kind of hype isn't necessarily a bad thing – horror cinema needs more outrageous exploitation films if you ask me. Cannibal Ferox's claim of being "banned in 31 countries"). With taglines like "the most controversial film in history!" and "holds the distinction of being the only film in history rejected for processing by labs: Technicolor, DuArt and DeLuxe" you could be forgiven for imagining that this is hucksterism on par with the grindhouse classics of yesteryear (e.g. I have to admit – I was little bit skeptical of all the hyperbole surrounding Nick Palumbo's Murder-Set-Pieces when I first heard about it.
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