A seminal early work from one of contemporary cinema’s true masters, Uwe Boll’s Sanctimony may have seemed like any other low-rent made-for-cable/video potboiler when it was produced in 2000. But after the powerhouse trifecta of House Of The Dead, Alone In The Dark, and Bloodrayne (not to mention his 373 other upcoming videogame adaptations), Sanctimony will survive to be studied by generations of film theorists, who will analyze its every frame for early signs of directorial genius, much in the way Kubrick students pore over Killer's Kiss and Fear And Desire.

A serial killer is loose on the mean streets of Vancouv-- oops, Seattle, a particularly cunning maniac known as the “Monkey Maker” who, from evidence supplied in the manic, Bolltastic title sequence (nice score by Uwe Spies, no relation), does his killing with a bow and arrow. Never mind that the man quickly revealed to be the culprit, Casper Van Dien, doing his best American Psycho as Tom Turner, a creepy rich-prick day trader, is never seen carrying archery equipment on his nightly treks to prowl for innocent tourists.

He soon draws the attention of world-weary cops Michael Pare and Jennifer Rubin, the latter looking incapable of lifting a paperweight, let alone busting through doors and tracking murdering maniacs. Pare is a typical cop on the edge with some worrisome male pattern baldness (say it ain’t so, Cruiser!) and a baby on the way, courtesy of wife Catherine Oxenberg, whose accent changes with each syllable. She’s a typical sourpuss cop’s wife, worrywart by night, beefcake photographer by day, who in the “what the fuck?” moment of the film (if not all the time) encourages Pare to pose nude when her male model flakes on her. Generic music soars and the female (and gay) photographers ooh and ahh, mugging frenetically as Pare drops his towel.

Uwe, you fucking rock.

Meanwhile, Pare is also on the case of a mysterious series of snuff films, in a subplot that goes nowhere other than to provide a riotous scene that makes 8MM look like a documentary. Looking for some extra cheap thrills before a night of murderous archery, Van Dien bears witness to an Eyes Wide Shut-inspired snuff shoot, as rich folks go to an underground club and stand around wearing Lone Ranger masks as some creepy German doctor (wait a minute now.... Uwe?) lectures a struggling blonde actress on the finer points of contract negotiation (???) before offing her while someone films it with a cheapo camcorder. (Editor's Note: Did I read what I thought I just read?) Pare finds the club, but not in time to save the hapless female victim, through a howler of editing only Dr. Boll could provide: See, when Van Dien arrived for the back room murder-fest, a bouncer let him through a back door and right into the snuff room. When Pare sucker-punches the same bouncer and goes through the same back door, he spends what must be eight minutes of screen time prowling, gun raised, around a hissing, steam-filled underground lair before arriving way too late to save anybody. When he does finally find the snuff killer, the guy pleads innocent and claims to be an actor faking his underground movies. Pare’s retort is masterful: “I’m gonna check you out with the Screen Actors Guild, and if you’ve been bullshitting me, you’re gonna find yourself with a brand-new residence.” Because a lot of hard-nosed cops in Seattle make THAT reference a lot.

It’s worth noting this storyline never reappears for the rest of the film.

From then on Van Dien goes off the deep end, dumping his spoiled fiancée and upping the Monkey Maker action, finally drawing the attention of our beloved police duo, whose by-the-book but heart-of-gold captain is played by Eric Roberts... whose hair looks nice. (What? You gotta say something good about a guy who gave one of the best performances of the 1980s in Star 80, only to end up in movies like this while his kid sister went on to be the biggest movie star in the world.)

From here on out, it’s a cat-and-mouse game, as our favorite Starship Trooper dares Pare and Rubin to catch him. Eventually Rubin arranges a date with the maniac, at once sure of his guilt but totally turned on by his joyful personality. Will he take the bait? Will she sleep with her enemy? Could their dinner scenes be any more mundane? Do bad-ass cops like Michael Pare really drive VW Bugs and do nude photo layouts? What’s with the scene where Van Dien goes on a live talk show to discuss his financial success, and winds up murdering everyone on the air? Could the MS. 45-inspired country club massacre at the end be any lamer? Is “sanctimony” even a real word? Whoops, sure is: Boll helpfully provides the dictionary definition right there in the credits.

Hey, I’d say the movie sucks, but what do I know? I’m not a doctor.

Video
Like all Boll masterworks, the compositions are appalling, though his House Of The Dead and Alone In The Dark looked infinitely better in their Carpenter-inspired 2.35:1 theatrical presentations than in their opened-up 1.85:1 DVD incarnations. Sanctimony appears here at full frame 1.33:1. Since it debuted on cable and video in this form, I have no idea what the intended ratio is, though I’d imagine it was something wider. There’s extra leg room and needless information filling the lower half of the screen throughout, leading one to believe this was intended as a widescreen movie where the excess info would have been covered by matting.

Audio
Rock out to Uwe Spies’ score in glorious 2.0 digital stereo.

Extras
A trailer, which unlike the movie itself, is in 1.85:1. Nice.

Overall
Once again, The Master does not disappoint. Highly recommended.