The idea started with a remark that his wife made after a road rage incident (“Wouldn’t it be great if we all had one free one a year?”), enhanced by DeMonaco reflecting upon America’s relationship with guns compared to other countries. From a writer/director who openly speaks about his fear of firearms, “The Purge” is meant to reflect our violence-obsessed news cycle through genre entertainment, and comment upon killing by presenting it more absurdly. That satire of gun nut extremism even becomes marketing with posters featuring American flags made of weapons (“The Purge: Anarchy”) or using the winking tagline “Keep America Great" (this past weekend's "The Purge: Election Year"). Frustratingly, the films themselves prove to be thoroughly hypocritical about gun ownership and a violent, desensitized America, with the two issues providing the series’ bloody bread and butter.

DeMonaco’s franchise hasn’t always been so misguided. The peak sequence of the series (so far) is in the opening credits to 2013’s “The Purge,” which presented savage violence from previous purge nights in surveillance footage, accompanied by a striking inclusion of Debussy’s greatest hit “Clair de Lune.” It’s a moment that captures what DeMonaco was initially horrified by—that violence is a widespread tragedy in a nation that adores weapons as a means of protection, and that answers to fear with hatred, not compassion. As a family tries to protect themselves in their home throughout this film, the dystopia of “The Purge” is vivid, showing that the holiday does not work for the greater good of society, despite statistics being shared in voiceover about crime being lowered, or that scientists agree that purging is healthy.

Even by the second half of the first movie, DeMonaco’s entire intent falls apart, as his overriding interest to make “a thrill ride” leads to speaking in a dull slasher film language. Campy villains with masks become the face of a human being’s decision to kill, and violence is presented in slow motion with gushy money-shots, like Michael Haneke’s home invasion story “Funny Games” but American-ized with more shotgun blasts. When I attended a preview screening of the first film, a dissonance had already started; Ethan Hawke’s face was traumatized after killing numerous purgers inside his home, but the audience accompanied his reaction with uproarious applause, having been wound up by DeMonaco’s beats to expect the melee they were just rewarded. By the film’s conclusion, violence is recognized foremost as an outlet for cool kills, and guns an instrument for action that the film relies upon as much as the characters.