Movie Review: Spree

Spree ** / *****
Directed by: Eugene Kotlyarenko.
Written by: Eugene Kotlyarenko and Gene McHugh.
Starring: Joe Keery (Kurt Kunkle), Sasheer Zamata (Jessie Adams), David Arquette (Kris Kunkle), Kyle Mooney (Miles Manderville), Misha Barton (London), Frankie Grande (Richard), Lala Kent (Kendra), Joshua Ovalle (Bobby), Reatha Grey (Grandma Adams), Caroline Hebert (Daisy), Sunny Kim (uNo), Linas Phillips (Frederick), John DeLuca (Mario), Jessalyn Gilsig (Andrea), Sean Avery (Officer Hall), Victor Winters-Junco (Officer Hernandez), Amir M. Korangy (Davit the GoGo Driver).

 

So far it seems like filmmakers are not up to the task of depicting the kind of everyday violence, committed by angry, very online young white men that grows out a mixture of loneliness and misogyny and inflicted on the world as “payback”. Perhaps it’s because the filmmakers who are mainly making movies about them are themselves, white men – but they seem incapable of fully depicting the anger and misogyny, and instead too often depict their central characters as they seem themselves – as victims of the online society that has left them behind, rather than the angry, violent men that they are. Like Todd Phillips completely misreading Taxi Driver and The King of Comedy in last year’s Joker – making the Bickle/Pupkin character in a victim rather than a violent man looking for an outlet for that violence, or the recent The Hater, which didn’t seem to have handle on its character at all, the recent film Spree – about a young man named Kurt Kunkle (Joe Keery) – who has attempted to build a social media following, and completely failed, leading to the wild night depicted in the film – where he works as a Spree driver (think Uber) – where he kills many of his passengers, and livestreams it all (still failing to gather a following) seems to think that Kurt is a victim of this society, rather than a lonely, angry, misogynistic psychopath. I’ve seen the film compared to American Psycho – if only that were true. The film version of American Psycho, is superior to the book version, specifically because director Mary Harron and her co-writer Guinevere Turner, come at Patrick Bateman from a completely different point-of-view making him far more pathetic than the alpha-male posturing of Bret Easton Ellis’ novel. If only we had their version of Spree.

Spree is another film than takes place entirely online – mostly the livestream that Kunkle runs throughout the night in his car – equipped with multiple cameras for different angles, but also some different perspectives as well (different people’s videos and livestreams, etc.). We are informed early that Kunkle has been trying to gain a following for 10 years – but his videos rarely hit double digits in views (the way we are informed of this, via onscreen text implies that we are watching some sort of documentary – but it’s confusing because it’s pretty much abandoned from then on). What we see from there, is how Kunkle’s night unfolds – from his first passenger, an angry, older white man spewing racism that drinks the poisoned water bottle Kunkle has put out for his passengers, to more and more extreme violence Kunkle commits throughout the night. Keery, very good on Stranger Things, is good here as well – a smiling psycho, who never drops his cheerful, online brand – the man with the plan, who wants to impart on his fans “The Lesson”.

The film muddies the water too much though with the introduction of Jessie Adams (Sasheer Zamata), an up-and-coming black standup comedian, with a huge online presence – she has everything that Kurt wants, and cannot get. She gets into his Spree – alongside another passenger (it’s Spree social) – but when she gets out, unscathed, the film and Kurt don’t abandon her either. We keep coming back to her – and know her path will cross with Kurt’s again before the night is out.

I know what co-writer/director Eugene Kotlyarenko is doing here – after introducing us to Kurt, then the angry older Fox News viewer, and the bro-y frat boy Mario – all of whom have a version of the angry white man shtick going, he wants to introduce a new perspective – one decidedly not white, and not male. In theory, this is the smart move – by showing the perspective of the type of person who is too often the victim of this online hate, you cannot be accused of being locked into the perspective of the perpetrator of it and feeling sympathy for it In practice though, it doesn’t work at all – as both Adams stand-up set that goes viral, and the end of the film, heavily implies that Adams is a huge part of the problem in the first place – and although, like Bickle in Taxi Driver, she is treated like a hero by the media, the movie makes you think she shouldn’t be.

In short, Spree is another film that tries to address the issue of online hate, of violence spreading from the digital world, to the real world – but it’s another one that doesn’t quite understand what the issue is at all. Or maybe, it does – and the execution is just way off. And it’s all wrapped in a package so extreme – the violence is almost comically over-the-top that whatever message the filmmakers are trying to send, doesn’t come through at all.

Movie Review: Amulet

Amulet *** ½ / *****
Directed by: Romola Garai.
Written by: Romola Garai.
Starring: Carla Juri (Magda), Alec Secareanu (Tomas), Imelda Staunton (Sister Claire), Anah Ruddin (Mother), Angeliki Papoulia (Miriam), Elowen Harris (Dina), William E. Lester (Mother - voice).

Actress Romola Garai makes a promising directorial debut with the feminist horror parable Amulet. You don’t quite realize just how feminist it is until the final act, as Garai only slowly reveals the truth about the all the people involved – but the finale really does hit hard. The film is gorgeous to look at – clearly inspired by giallo horror movies, Garai has made a visual stunner. Her storytelling is perhaps not quite up to that level – there is perhaps too many twists and turns, handled a little awkwardly – and the confusion the audience feels at certain points is perhaps not entirely on purpose. Yet, overall, Amulet marks the announcement of a major new talent behind the camera for horror movies – and I cannot wait to see what happens next in her career.

Tomas (Alec Secareanu) is a day laborer living in extreme poverty on the outskirts of London. A former soldier, racked with guilt over his actions in “the war” (what war, is not really made clear – and what he feels so guilty about only becomes somewhat clear as the film moves along). With nowhere to go, when he receives an offer from a kindly nun – Sister Claire (played by Imelda Staunton, giving you the first sign that you shouldn’t trust her) – he gladly takes it. Tomas will work as a handyman of sorts for Magda (Carla Juri) – who lives in a large, dilapidated, remote house as she cares for her dying mother (Anah Ruddin). It quickly becomes clear though that Mother isn’t just some sick old woman – she is possessed by some ancient evil – or may well be the ancient evil made flesh. Magda is trapped with her until Mother dies anyway, and Tomas is there to help. You sense immediately though that Tomas is uncomfortable – the way he looks at Magda brings up mixed feelings in both him and the audience.

Garai reveals the truth behind all of these characters – but does so slowly – perhaps too slowly for genre fans who just want to get to the bloody climax of the movie (rest assured genre fans, when Garai finally does go for broke in those final minutes, it is worth the wait). The film mixes different horror genres in its one film – it is a tale of possession of course, but it eventually makes it clear that it is also a feminist take on the rape/revenge film – that stands aside something like Coralie Fargeat’s underrated/underseen Revenge as an attempt by female filmmakers to take the genre back from its pure exploitation roots. Tomas is a complicated figure – he wants to “free” Magda from whatever curse is on her that forces her to stay alongside mother – as if doing so will free him of his sins. But, as the film makes clear, it may not be enough – you cannot simply make up for a bad deed with a good one. Tomas though is a more complicated figure than we normally see in this type of movie – and Secareanu’s performance is quite good at navigating the different aspects of him. The same is true for Juri’s Magda – and her performance, which really is something in the final act. Up until then, the structure and storytelling do somewhat limit her – as Garai doesn’t want to give the game away. An old pro like Staunton is also quite good as Sister Claire – making the film’s simplest main character into something interesting.

It really is the visuals though that make Amulet something to behold. Garai takes great care with the cinematography and sound design to create atmosphere – and the production design on the house is also quite special – without it, the film would likely fall apart. Garai is clearly a talented – and ambitious – filmmaker. Perhaps, too ambitious with this first film – the flashback structure and storytelling is a little confusing at times – but she more than makes up for it with the visuals, the performances and ideas. I cannot wait to see what she does next.

Movie Review: The Hater

The Hater ** ½ / *****
Directed by: Jan Komasa.
Written by: Mateusz Pacewicz.
Starring: Maciej Musialowski (Tomasz Giemza), Vanessa Aleksander (Gabi Krasucka), Danuta Stenka (Zofia Krasucka), Jacek Koman (Robert Krasucki), Agata Kulesza (Beata Santorska), Maciej Stuhr (Pawel Rudnicki), Adam Gradowski (Stefan Guzkowski 'Guzek'), Piotr Biedron (Kamil), Jedrzej Wielecki (Staszek Rydel), Jan Hrynkiewicz (Roommate Marcin Karpiuk), Martynika Kosnica (Natalia Krasucka).

It isn’t often when we have a promising filmmaker’s follow-up to their breakthrough success released mere months after that breakthrough – but with The Hater, Jan Komasa follows up his wonderful, Oscar nominated Corpus Christi – released in theaters earlier this year. You can certainly see similarities with his breakthrough success – both are portraits of angry, confused young men. But the main character in The Hater is far less nuanced – and interesting – than the one portrayed so memorably by Bartosz Bielenia in Corpus Christi – and the film is also more unfocused, lashing out angrily in many different directions. At two hours and fifteen minutes, it’s also a long movie – and it feels even longer.

We are introduced to Tomasz (Maciej Musialowski), and immediately know that ethics isn’t his strong suit. He has been called before his university’s ethics board – and will be expelled from law school for plagiarism by the end of the film’s first scene. But instead of learning from his transgressions and trying to make things right, and turn his life around, instead he decides to keep digging himself in deeper. Tomasz is from the country – a poor family, and is determined to make good one way or another. A wealthy family – the Krasucka’s, who used to vacation in the country near Tomasz – are partially funding his schooling, and Tomasz goes to their house for dinner – under the guise of thanking them. His real intentions though are to integrate himself in their family – their college daughter, Gabi (Vanessa Aleksander) goes to the same school (different program), and he wants to get in with her and her friends. The Krasucka’s are into politics as well – supporting a liberal politician running for mayor. Soon Tomasz is working for an ethically dubious online marketing firm – they do the dirty work, spreading fake news on the internet that the bigger places won’t do. When Tomasz sees his new plan also go up in smoke, he starts playing both sides – volunteering for the candidate, in an attempt to get back in good with the Krascuka’s, while sabotaging the candidate online. He goes above and beyond even what the firm with no morals would do though, when he targets a right wing nut job of a young man – and starts filling his head with thoughts of violence.

The Hater is Komasa’s attempt to delve into the internet world we live in now. I noticed that he had another film back in 2011 called Suicide Room – about an angry young high school student spending sending his hate out into the world in chatrooms, and the original title of this film – Suicide Room: The Hater – marks this as some sort of companion piece to that – updated for the fake news era. It’s certainly a subject worthy of exploration – but filmmakers still, I think, have not quite figured out how to address the dark corners internet in a way that doesn’t lead to extremes. The Hater isn’t as bad – or sensationalistic as Spree, another recent film about the subject – but I’m not sure it quite hits the nail on the head either.

A big part of the problem is that Tomasz just isn’t all that interesting. The film attempts to complicate him a little bit – like Komasa so memorably did in Corpus Christi – trying to make Tomasz a little sympathetic, in between him doing completely awful things – but it doesn’t really work. The film seems stuck between wondering if Tomasz is a monster – who uses his weapon of choice, the internet to do his monstrous things, or if he is a victim of the online culture – a wounded young man, crushed by unrequited love, who takes things too far because no one is around to stop him, and it’s just so easy. Perhaps Komasa thinks he is both of those things – which, admittedly, would be an interesting angle to take. But Musialowski’s performance lacks the nuance to make Tomasz all that interesting. He’s a blank slate – and at some point you wonder if there’s any “there there” at all.

The Hater touches on timely issues to be sure – and I hope that some filmmaker finally is able to crack the code on how to portray this generation of very angry, very online young men, who digital violence becomes real at some point. The Hater isn’t that film – even if it’s an honorable attempt to be.

Movie Review: Bloodshoot

Bloodshot ** ½ / *****
Directed by: David S.F. Wilson.
Written by: Jeff Wadlow and Eric Heisserer.
Starring: Vin Diesel (Bloodshot), Eiza González (KT), Sam Heughan (Jimmy Dalton), Toby Kebbell (Martin Axe), Talulah Riley (Gina Garrison), Lamorne Morris (Wilfred Wigans), Guy Pearce (Dr. Emil Harting), Jóhannes Haukur Jóhannesson (Nick Baris), Alex Hernandez (Tibbs), Siddharth Dhananjay (Eric).

Bloodshot is further proof that Vin Diesel was born too late to be the action star he truly wanted to be. Outside of the Fast & Furious franchise, Diesel has struggled to make much in the way of memorable action films. Bloodshot really should have been that film – it is a throwback to the 1980s and 1990s action films (much like Diesel is a throwback to those action stars himself) – more fitting in an era where seemingly every action star had a movie about becoming a biologically enhanced killing machine, before turning on his makers, and when comic book movies were seen mainly as disposable trash – instead of the defining cultural institute that they have (unfortunately) become. Considering those films aren’t made much anymore, Bloodshot should have been a fun throwback – forgettable perhaps, but at least a way to forget everything else for a couple of hours. Unfortunately, it never quite gets there. It takes itself – like Diesel himself often seems to – too seriously, and even the attempts at in jokes and humor mainly fall flat.

In the film, Diesel stars as a soldier called Garrison who is mainly tasked with leading a team that does what others cannot – dangerous rescue mission, deadly attacks, etc. After one such attack, he is kidnapped by Martin Axe (Toby Kebbell)- a psycho killer who literally dances to Psycho Killer as he approaches him. Axe has also kidnapped Garrison’s wife – Gina, and kills her right in front of Garrison, before killing Garrison himself. It’s odd then when Garrison wakes up – brought back to life by Dr. Emil Harting (Guy Pearce) – who has an experimental procedure that can not only bring people back to life, but also make them virtually invincible (think Wolverine). Garrison is supposed to become a part of team of these super soldiers – but of course because he’s played by Vin Diesel, he refuses to play by Harting’s rules – and goes rogue, out for revenge. But, of course, things are never quite as they seem. I won’t reveal more of the plot than that – it has some twists and turns, most of them you can probably see coming (if I remember the trailer correctly, it gives the game away in it – somewhat I forgot since it’s been so long since I saw the trailer).

Had Bloodshot made been in the 1990s, it probably would have starred Arnold Schwarzenegger, and been about a million times more fun than the Bloodshot we got in 2020. Schwarzenegger never took himself too seriously in these roles – and his smiling face helped the audience know that everyone was in the joke of just how silly this all was. Diesel seems incapable of that – and it’s too bad, because he is not a bad actor in anyway. But he seems content to keep doing these silly action movies, but in a self-serious way – when he’s actually been quite good in serious roles like Sidney Lumet’s Find Me Guilty (2006) or Boiler Room (2000) – and he actually started as a promising director – although he hasn’t directed a feature since his debut – Strays in 1997. Whether he doesn’t get offered serious roles, or doesn’t seek them out, is a shame in many ways – one of them being that because he takes something like Bloodshot so seriously, he drags the fun out of what should be a silly action movie. The rest of the cast – especially Kebbell and Pearce – seem to be in on the joke that nobody told Diesel.

The movie was directed by David S.F. Wilson. The action sequences are fairly generic – but for the most part are quite good (the best being a shootout in a tunnel, after a car chase sequence). They aren’t quite Michael Bay incoherent – a good thing – and if perhaps the final fight sequence, on top of multiple moving elevators – drags on a little long, well, at least they are kind of fun.

I watched Bloodshot the night I got back from a week at the cottage – those days when you are tired from the drive, and unpacking, and a little letdown after the fun time you had away – but not quite ready to go to bed yet. It’s a fine movie for that sort of day – when you want to watch something completely unchallenging and stupid, but also kind of fun. But there’s a lot better choices for those days as well – pretty much anything Arnold made in the 1980s or 1990s, which is what this film is trying desperately to be for example.

Classic Movie Review: The Iceman Cometh (1973)

The Iceman Cometh (1973)
Directed by: John Frankenheimer.
Written by: Thomas Quinn Curtiss based on the play by Eugene O’Neill.
Starring: Lee Marvin (Hickey), Frederic March (Henry Hope), Robert Ryan (Larry Slade), Jeff Bridges (Don Parritt), Bradford Dillman (Willie Oban), Sorrell Booke (Hugo Kalmar), Hildy Brooks (Margie), Juno Dawson (Pearl), Evan Evans (Cora), Maryn Green (Cecil Lewis), Moses Gunn (Joe Mott), Clifton James (Pat McGloin), John McLiam (Jimmy Tomorrow), Stephen Pearlman (Chuck Morelo), Tom Pedi (Rocky Pioggi), George Voskovec (Piet Wetjoen), Don McGovern (Moran), Bart Burns (Lieb).

All the denizens of Henry Hope’s bar are drunks – talking about what they had yesterday, and what they are going to do tomorrow – perhaps knowing somewhere deep down that the tomorrow they describe is never going to come, because tomorrow will be just like today – they’ll spend it getting drunk in Henry Hope’s bar. The lone exception – at least in his own view – is Larry Slade (Robert Ryan) – who was once part of the “movement” – but gave that up 11 years ago, and now spends his days in the bar with all the other drunks. But he never seems to get that drunk – and he holds himself apart from them. In his own mind, he has no delusions anymore – he did when he was part of the movement, but he “outgrew” that, and is now basically sitting around waiting for death. Not even the arrival of Don Parritt (Jeff Bridges)- the son of a woman Larry knew in the movement – and perhaps even Larry’s son (he says he isn’t, but when Ryan says it, you get the feeling he’s trying to convince himself, as well as the kid, that it isn’t true) can shake him. Don is there because there was a rat in their group – and all of them, including his mother, have been arrested. He wants Larry’s help – and Larry isn’t going to help him.

The first act of The Iceman Cometh has everyone in that basement dive bar awaiting the arrival of Hickey (Lee Marvin). He comes every year on Henry’s (Frederic March) birthday – and is always full of stories, pockets full of money to buy rounds – and it’s the highlight of the year, perhaps because it’s the only time things change. But when Hickey arrives this time, things are different. He enters the bar and gives off the impression of what he is – a travelling salesman – with a pitch for everyone in the bar. He isn’t drinking anymore – and doesn’t want the others to drink either. He says he has rid himself of all his self-delusions – and wants the rest of them to do the same. That way they will be free – and happy. After all, just look at Hickey. Isn’t he happy?

The 1973 film version of Eugene O’Neill’s famous play was the first film produced by what was known as The American Film Theatre – a group started by Ely Landau, who for two “seasons” brought filmed versions of great plays to theatres. It was a subscription series – offered to theatres to draw in a more “highbrow” crowd – playing their shows only on Mondays and Tuesdays when movie theatres were less busy anyway. That’s probably the only way we would ever get a four-hour version of The Iceman Cometh into movie theatres anyway. It isn’t an unabridged version of O’Neill’s play – it even cuts out an entire character – but it’s probably as close as we will ever get.

The film was directed by the great John Frankenheimer, who makes no effort to try and “open up” the play. The whole movie takes place in Henry’s bar – the bar itself, and the backroom. But it isn’t just a filmed version of the play either – it’s not on a stage, with an audience, and Frankenheimer’s camera moves freely around the bar – and makes the most of its close-up’s on the actors faces. And what faces they are! This was the last film of both the great Frederic March – winning of two Oscars (Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde in 1932 and The Best Years of Our Lives in 1946) and Robert Ryan – one of the best character actors of all time. Tough guy Lee Marvin may seem like an odd choice to play Hickey (and I hope to watch Sidney Lumet’s TV version with veteran O’Neill thespian Jason Robards in the role soon) – but it’s a reminder that when given the right material, Marvin was a towering presence – and a great actor.

It would be easy with Hickey to go BIG for example – to make him larger than life. Marvin is capable of doing that when he needs to here, but he’s also capable of going smaller, subtler when the movie calls on him to do so. The obvious centerpiece of the performance is his massive monologue in the closing act – one of the best monologue’s in theatre history, and Marvin makes the most of it. It’s a monologue that in other hands may make Hickey out to be insane – it’s certainly how the drunks in the bar read it – but in Marvin’s hands, it’s crystal clear that Hickey is perfectly sane – he knew exactly what he was doing.

The great March is also wonderful here. His Henry is more than little bit pathetic – sure owning a dive bar like this is slightly less pathetic than hanging out in one all day – but not if all you really do is sit in the corner drinking, moaning about his beloved wife, dead now 20 years, which is also the last time he left the bar. It’s a fitting goodbye for an actor as great as March.

And yet, it is Robert Ryan whose performance in the film is the best. It turns out, he is different than the rest of the people in the bar – but being different doesn’t make him any better. The play proceeds with Hickey convincing everyone else except Larry to let go of their delusions – to head out into the world, and make that tomorrow they all talk about actually happen. They head out alright, but are all back within the day. The world outside the bar isn’t as safe as the one in the bar – and if you’re going to make that tomorrow happen, you actually have to do something about it. The key to the play may just be that Hickey is completely right – that all these men are living with their own self-delusions, but they are all happier for it. They are miserable when forced to confront themselves, their real selves. Hickey’s confessional monologue gives them all the excuse they need to retreat back into Henry Hope’s bar, and dismiss everything that he said.

All, of course, except for Larry. By the end of the play only two people have really taken any concrete action – Hickey himself, whose actions came before the start of the play, and the kid – Don – who finds he cannot live with himself. The rest of them have retreated back into their roles that they had before Hickey even arrived. But for Larry, his delusions are gone – the way he thought of himself before is no longer how he can ever think of himself again. He is the one who resisted Hickey the longest – and yet he’s the only one who has permanently changed because of him. And he’s absolutely miserable because of it. Self-delusions prevent us from seeing ourselves clearly – but they also protect us from the same. When they’re gone, you’re stuck with yourself.

Note: I have now seen the Sidney Lumet made for TV movie from 1960 – with Jason Robards as Hickey. It’s an interesting film – quicker than the Frankenheimer version (it runs “only” three hours, twenty minutes rather than 4 hours) and it doesn’t quite have the freedom of movement that Frankenheimer’s version has – it has also aged a little bit, so the picture isn’t quite as good. Still, it’s fascinating to watch it just a few days after seeing the Frankenheimer version. Myron McCormick – who was mainly a stage actor – is excellent as Larry Slade, maybe not as great as Ryan – but close enough, and their interpretations are similar. It’s also interesting to see a very young Robert Redford as Parritt (it’s his 8^th screen credit – but all previous 7 are also from 1960). The biggest difference is clearly Jason Robards performance as Hickey. He’s younger than Marvin (not yet even 40) – which by itself is a major difference. He also goes BIGGER than Marvin throughout. By this time, Robards had already played Hickey on stage – in the revival that basically made the play’s reputation as its original run got mixed reviews – and this is clearly more of a stage performance than a screen one. Yet it still works great – Robards is “on” for the entire film – a carnival barker, salesman charming and annoying everyone in the bar. He delivers Hickey’s great final monologue wonderfully well – and by the end, you do question Hickey’s sanity – not when he does what he did, but after the fact when in a moment of anger, he says what he actually thinks, and it may completely destroy his vision of himself. In short, I think Robards is great – I don’t see much point in proclaiming him either better or worse than Marvin – but they are different. Personally, I would have loved to see Robards when he took on the role again on Broadway in 1985 – because I think age may have made him bring something different to the role (I would also would have loved to see the stage versions with James Earl Jones or Denzel Washington or Nathan Lane as Hickey – the acclaimed version with Kevin Spacey in the role less so, since I can pretty much envision exactly how Spacey would do the role). In short, both the Lumet and Frankenheimer versions are worth seeing, especially to see the different Hickeys – but the Frankenheimer version is superior overall.

Classic Movie Double Bill: The Friends of Eddie Coyle (1973) & Killing Them Softly (2012)

The Friends of Eddie Coyle (1973) 
Directed by: Peter Yates.
Written by: Paul Monash based on the novel by George V. Higgins.
Starring: Robert Mitchum (Eddie 'Fingers' Coyle), Peter Boyle (Dillon), Richard Jordan (Dave Foley), Steven Keats (Jackie Brown), Alex Rocco (Jimmy Scalise), Joe Santos (Artie Van), Mitchell Ryan (Waters), Peter MacLean (Mr. Partridge), Kevin O'Morrison (Bank manager #2), Marvin Lichterman (Vernon), Carolyn Pickman (Nancy), James Tolkan (The Man's contact man), Margaret Ladd (Andrea), Matthew Cowles (Pete), Helena Carroll (Sheila Coyle), Jack Kehoe (The Beard)
 
Killing Them Softly (2012)
Directed by: Andrew Dominik.
Written by: Andrew Dominik based on the novel by George V. Higgins.
Starring: Brad Pitt (Jackie), Scoot McNairy (Frankie), Ben Mendelsohn (Russell), James Gandolfini (Mickey), Richard Jenkins (Driver), Vincent Curatola (Johnny Amato), Ray Liotta (Markie Trattman), Trevor Long (Steve Caprio), Max Casella (Barry Caprio), Sam Shepard (Dillon), Slaine (Kenny Gill).

I was going to say it was inexplicable that only two movies have ever been based on the novels by George V. Higgins – until I realized that perhaps the best way to describe Higgins is Elmore Leonard with all the fun drained out – and then it becomes easier to see why Hollywood hasn’t jumped on the novels. The rogues’ gallery of character in Leonard novels can betray you, kill you even – but the stories are smart, funny, and sexy – and full of a certain energy. Hollywood hasn’t always gotten Leonard right – but when they do, like in Tarantino’s Jackie Brown or Soderberg’s Out of Sight, they produce masterworks. But Higgins characters are different – beaten down by the criminal life, wounded – they are pretty much the walking dead when the stories start – so it’s almost a relief when they meet their inevitable fate. Higgins may have only inspired two movies – but both are brilliant.

The Friends of Eddie Coyle (1973) truly does belong on any list of the best films of the 1970s – and probably only doesn’t because director Peter Yates doesn’t get mentioned alongside the like of Altman, Scorsese, or Coppola. Yates was more a journeyman director – yet a filmmaker adept of changing his style to suit the material – meaning he could make this or Bullitt (1968) or Breaking Away (1979) – and find the right note for the film. Hell, who else can say they directed Krull and The Dresser in the same year?

His approach to The Friends of Eddie Coyle most resembles Altman – with it’s large, sprawling cast of characters, some overlapping dialogue, etc. The biggest asset he has is in casting Robert Mitchum in the title role – giving what may just be Mitchum’s best performance ever. Mitchum wasn’t quite 60 yet when he made this film – but he feels older. Eddie Coyle is a career, low-level criminal, looking at yet another prison term – and the weight of it all seems to make him walk a little slower, slumped shoulders. Mitchum, who was never in a hurry to deliver his dialogue, takes even more time than normal here. He is caught – and knows he is caught – and knows what he has to do in order to get away. It will involve becoming a rat. Dave Foley (Richard Jordan) is a cop who has basically told Eddie that he can make a call to the D.A. over in New Hampshire – get that little charge dismissed. But he needs something. Eddie, who has been dealing guns he gets from an even lower level criminal – Jackie Brown (Steven Keats) – thinks that maybe he can just give the kid up. But he’s also been selling those guns to an old friend – who along with some buddies have been committing some brazen, high profile bank robberies.

The title to the film is meant ironically of course – none of these people are really Eddie’s friends. Neither is Dillon (Peter Boyle) – a “bartender” who seems to know everything going on in the criminal underworld in Boston – and uses it to his advantage – either with the cops, or other criminals, whatever benefits him the most. Much is made of criminal code – but perhaps no film has more accurately dramatized the saying “there is no honor among thieves” – everyone in the film is out for themselves – the cops, the criminals – everyone. And will only do something if forced.

Eddie is, of course, a veteran in this world – a couple decades older even than Dillon, even if Boyle never seemed to age from the time, he was Joe (1970) to Everyone Loves Raymond (1995-2005). Eddie isn’t a good guy per se – he’s bad in many ways. But he’s a tragic figure – and a sympathetic one. I defy you not to feel for him as gets drunker and drunker at the Bruins game, shouting “Number four, Bobby Orr” – when we know his time is up (and maybe he does too). Mitchum, always one of the best actors in the world, in part because he didn’t seem to give a shit, here digs deeper and delivers a masterclass in screen acting. It’s one of the best performance you will ever see – and the film is a straight-up masterpiece.

It took nearly 40 years for someone else to adapt Higgins – and that was in 2012’s Killing Them Softly, based on Higgins’ Coogan’s Trade. It was Andrew Dominik’s follow-up to his 2007 masterpiece The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (we’re still waiting for his follow-up to this one). I admit, I didn’t much like the film when I first saw it – other than the killer final scene. I felt Dominik laid on too many showy directors tricks, that some of the dialogue seemed stilted – like a poor man’s version of Leonard or Tarantino. Watching it again, I can only say I was wrong – perhaps the director’s tricks (particularly early) aren’t as distracting on my TV screen as they were in the theater, I’m not sure – but the dialogue is terrific. It isn’t a poor man’s Leonard or Tarantino – because it isn’t trying to be either. Much like the dialogue in The Friends of Eddie Coyle, it is weighted down – the lives of these people has beaten them down, ground them down. Most of them are as much dead men walking as Eddie Coyle.

It all starts with the robbery of a mob-controlled card game. Johnny (Vincent Curatola) brings up the idea to Frankie (Scoot McNairy), who brings in Russell (Ben Mendelsohn) to pull it off. Normally, robbing a mob backed card game would be suicide – but Johnny knows this particular card game was knocked over a few years ago – and the man behind it was Markie Trattman (Ray Liotta) – who still runs the game, even if it’s an open secret he did it himself. They looked the other way once – but he figures they won’t do so again. They’ll just kill Markie and move on. That is essentially the first act of the film – the first 30 minutes of a 97-minute movie. It isn’t until after that the film’s star – Jackie (Brad Pitt) even shows up. The mob wanted Dillon (Sam Shepherd) – but Dillon isn’t available (is it the same Dillon as Peter Boyle played in Eddie Coyle – could be). Jackie doesn’t buy that Markie would be so stupid to knock over the same game again – and it really doesn’t take much to figure out what really happened. He meets with the go-between with the mob (Richard Jenkins) – and wants to bring in a pro from New York – Mickey (James Gandolfini). Mickey isn’t what he used to be though.

These characters will remind you of those in The Friends of Eddie Coyle – a rogue’s gallery of beaten down, hard scrabble, violent but also kind of pathetic men. Jackie is the only one who seems most in control – because he’s the only one not living with any delusions of what the point of this all is. Dominik makes the interesting choice to set the film in 2008 – and we hear Obama promising hope and change throughout the film in the background. It was made in another election year – 2012 – when Obama is back up for reelection, where the country has lived through the worst of the massive economic downturn brought on by corporate greed. Jackie knows what this all means – “In America, you’re on your own” – a blistering tagline that lays in stark contrast to Obama’s.

Perhaps therein lies the secret as to why Hollywood hasn’t adapted more Higgins novels. They aren’t fun – they don’t show us honor among thieves, or be about the transgressions of those who live outside the law. There is something universal in his sad sack characters – the walking dead waiting to be put out of their misery.

Classic Movie Review: The Hired Hand (1971)

The Hired Hand (1971) 
Directed by: Peter Fonda.
Written by: Alan Sharp.
Starring: Peter Fonda (Harry Collings), Warren Oates (Arch Harris), Verna Bloom (Hannah Collings), Robert Pratt (Dan Griffen), Severn Darden (McVey), Rita Rogers (Mexican Woman), Ann Doran (Mrs. Sorenson), Ted Markland (Luke), Owen Orr (Mace), Al Hopson (Bartender), Megan Denver (Janey Collings), Michael McClure (Plummer), Gray Johnson (Will). 

 

In the wake of the massive, unexpected success of Easy Rider (1969), Peter Fonda – it’s co-writer, producer and star was pretty much given carte blanche to direct a movie – and what he came up with was The Hired Hand (1971) – the failure of which is sad for a number of reasons, the biggest being that Fonda didn’t really go on to a directing career – making just two other films – although this film shows he should have. Like many films that help to define a generation, Easy Rider has aged more than most – it remains a classic of American cinema, but it’s outsized influence in kicking off the Golden Age of 1970s American cinema (although with a few other films from the time) probably gives it a better reputation than it deserves. It is very much of its time and place – even if it’s line “We blew it” – was able to see the end of this short-lived era even before it really began. The Hired Hand though feels somewhat fresher – perhaps because it isn’t as well-known as Easy Rider, its greatness wasn’t copied to death in subsequent years. There were more than a few counter-culture Westerns at the time – all of them sad and tragic, all of them looking to undermine this most American of genres that produced lastly images of American heroism in John Wayne (and, Fonda’s own father) – but saw that built on lies. The Hired Hand wants to be, and is, a corrective of those films.

 In the film, Fonda plays Harry, who has been a cowboy, drifting the lonely prairies driving cattle alongside his partner, Arch (Warren Oates, perhaps the patron saint of these kinds of films – see The Wild Bunch, Two-Lane Blacktop, Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia, Badlands, etc.) for years now, and have just picked up a younger man – Dan (Robert Pratt) who unlike the two older men still has a sense of romanticism and adventure about him. They have finished their latest job, and contemplating what to do next – Dan wants to push out to California, see the ocean – and Arch may go with him. But Harry decides that now is the time to return home to the wife, Hannah (Verna Bloom) and daughter he abandoned years ago. Dan, of course, is the sacrificial lamb of the group – so once he dies, tragically and pointlessly (an obvious reference to the Vietnam war) Harry and Arch return to see Hannah, who isn’t exactly overjoyed to see Harry. She has had to make her own way all these years now on her farm – and says that Harry has given up any right to expect to be treated as a husband and father. She does offer him a job though – he can be the hired hand their farm needs. They agree not to tell their young daughter who he is.

The Hired Hand is a quiet film – it doesn’t really go out of its way to explain itself, and more often than not, the big, emotional moments are ones where characters exchange looks. The film is connected to Easy Rider in its way – because Harry has also essentially “dropped out” of society for all these years. When he decides he wants back in, it isn’t so easy – he cannot go home again. Hannah is also far more complex than women usually are – she isn’t the helpless victim, waiting for a man to rescue her. She is frank about what has happened over the years – she will hire men to work on the farm, and often they will also share her bed – but she kicks them out before they get too comfortable. She says it doesn’t much matter who shares her bed these days – and its telling that she says this not to Harry, but to Arch, who is listening intently while stroking her foot. That’s the extent of their physical connection in the film – but it’s weighted and meaningful just the same.

Fonda was smart with his directorial debut to surround himself with a great crew – probably no one more so than Vilmos Zsigmond as the cinematographer, the same year he did God level work in Altman’s McCabe and Mrs. Miller – which captures the vast loneliness of the American West. Zsigmond, of course, went onto a great career – but just as crucial are the contributions of editor Frank Mazzola and composer Bruce Langhorne, who in particular make the montages in the film stand-out.

In the end though, this is Fonda’s film. His sense as a director is wonderful, as his presence as an actor. He plays Harry as the walking dead – a man who is tired of being away from home, but can longer return home either. Some of the plot mechanics don’t make a ton of sense down the stretch – when Harry once again has to choose between staying home and helping his friend – but is perhaps necessary to get him to make that choice, and show it’s not really a choice at all. Harry no longer belongs anywhere – and never will again. And he knows it – but perhaps senses that Arch isn’t quite the same. There is hope for him yet – but Harry is doomed.