clipped from www.popmatters.com

In fact, the definitively ugly Smith serves a couple of familiar functions. One, he secures your alignment with the more refined serial killer, and two, he indicts your own pleasure in the very violent imagery you’re now consuming. Banal and contrived as these points may be, the movie is mostly saved by the mutual admiration club performed by Costner and Hurt. Their rhythms are delicate, their jokes dry. Earl and Marshall invite your identification with abject villainy, but never let you forget the creepiness of that process.