Dealing in broad archetypes—with tongue planted firmly in cheek and as many winks flying around as there are bullets—a case could as easily be made for this farcical slab of wish fulfilment to carry a Naked Gun influence. It also has the fingerprints of the over-the-top pulp of Kill Bill, the self-aware trope churning of Once Upon A Time In Mexico and the slightly satirical media-savvy mirth of The Running Man. For the very limited audience likely to have seen it, a slightly smarter version of Bitchslap is probably the most apt comparison.
Though it's constructed primarily from the most well worn of clichés, Bounty Killer does have a firm grasp on the idea of celebrity culture in a post-apocalyptic environment, which is something most films of the genre neglect entirely (save The Hunger Games, of course). In "the age of the bounty killer," professional murderers tasked with offing corporate criminals are the most famous people on the planet. These flashy gun-toting wasteland outlaws (well, they would be if there were any law left but that of the jungle) accrue fans and paparazzi wherever they go, not unlike flies swarming a fresh turd. An entire culture of "gun caddies" has grown around them as well, which is used as a source of much awkward slapstick comedy (these emotionally arrested star-fuckers are the fan boys of their time).
Recognizing how little interest the majority of its audience will have in the economic specifics of the convoluted plot—gunplay and prominently displayed baby feeders steal the lion's share of attention—there's a scene late in the film where a character specifically blows away an exposition-spouting villain mid-sentence, proclaiming, "you talk too much." Filling the film with classic practical gore effects, car chases, extensive shoot outs and eye candy, all with a satirical slant, director Henry Saine certainly knows who Bounty Killer is targeted at: viewers eager to make fun of their own proclivities. (Content Media)
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