It
is nice to know a detective like Luke Harding has an analytical mind, even if
he has been underemployed on bottom-feeding cases lately. He has already read
deeper into a book of forbidden knowledge than many a trained scholar. It is
not exactly a page-turner, only partly because of the evil black goo oozing out
of its binding. Even though it plays games with his head, Harding has no choice
but to read on in Rusty Nixon’s Residue (trailer here), which releases
today on VOD.
It
started with a strange job for Mr. Fairweather, a sleazy wrestling promoter and
low rent crime boss. He was supposed to dig up dirt on ten upstanding-looking
citizens, but one really seemed to be as squeaky clean as he acts. Fairweather’s
second job was to deliver a package to this straight arrow, but it is nearly
intercepted by henchmen working for Mr. Lamont, the city’s real kingpin.
Regrouping at his apartment, Harding inadvertently starts reading the book,
sealing his fate.
He
quickly deduces the book warps readers’ perception of time and reality. Rather
ominously, he finds himself doing the same tasks over and over, due to short
term memory loss. However, he will get organized, charting the Herzogian
explorers progress through the jungle in the pages he has read, while
documenting his own progress through the book. It is not a great time for
Harding’s grown daughter to crash with him, but he cannot turn her away.
Nixon
creates a lot of colorful lore related to the book, giving it some decidedly insidious
powers. The father-daughter relationship is also surprisingly engaging. It is
only the rival gangster stuff that feels ho-hum. Granted, the book’s ability to
wreak cosmic mayhem seems to evolve with each page turned, but it is still
relatively true to its Necronomicon inspiration.
James
Clayton and Taylor Hickson actually pull-off some redemptive drama as the
Hardings. Matt Frewer chews plenty of scenery as Fairweather, even while
laboring under a wonderfully ludicrous and gruesome prosthetic (probably
bringing back memories of his old Max Headroom days). It is also good clean fun
to watch William B. Davis, the X-Files’ cigarette-smoking
man, do his thing as Mr. Lamont. Such range he has.
