The serial-killer thriller is a genre that, by now, has used up all its natural resources.
It feels like there’s nothing left to discover in it — which is why last year’s “The Little Things,” for all its star power and ostensible ambition, seemed to be poking around under rocks we’d all looked under before.
Even so, it’s been a while since we’ve had a serial-killer thriller that’s as flagrant a piece of old-school grindhouse sleaze as “Midnight in the Switchgrass.”It’s the sort of movie where Megan Fox, as an FBI agent, somehow winds up captured by the killer and tied up with a chain around her neck, so that he can choke her, beat her, and, at one point, nuzzle her.
“You sure are something special,” he says in his redneck pervert drawl; it’s clear that the filmmakers, in their way,
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