Man on Film: The Place Beyond The Pines

Having thought quite highly of the emotional wrecking ball that was Derek Cianfrance's 2010 breakthrough Blue Valentine and seen nothing but positive buzz about this film, it was nearly impossible to not have high expectations for The Place Beyond The Pines despite going in nearly completely blind.

While there were elements that worked quite well, the film's unwieldy narrative structure--and most importantly its uneven and quite distinct three acts that spanned a 140-minute stretch of time that felt more like 180 minutes--made for a disappointing moviegoing experience.

Much of this owes to the film's strongest section being its first act. If one were looking at the first act as a genre film independent of the rest of the film, it would be difficult to not come away completely enamored with the film. On its own merits, the first act is a brilliant bit of motorcycle B-movie exploitation. Ryan Gosling is every bit the badass that he was in Drive, but Luke Glanton is much more complex than Driver was, allowing Gosling to run the gamut from boyishly charming to unhinged and volatile. In fact, there's almost nothing not to love about this first section of the film. Eva Mendes is surprisingly dextrous as the downtrodden former flame trying to piece together her life on the fringe; the motorcycle stunts are fucking visceral and exhilarating; and the spectacular Ben Mendelsohn knocks his supporting part out of the park.

Unfortunately the first section is only the first section. The film trudges on through two more lengthy acts as Cianfrance explores the theme of the sins of the father permeating their progeny. Each of the subsequent acts drags more than its predecessor, the air is slowly let out of the movie, and by the time we get to the film's conclusion, its impact is diminished by the question nagging the viewer: when will this fucking movie end?

To be fair and forthcoming, there are elements of these latter acts that work. Bradley Cooper does what he can with his role. Just as Luke Glanton is filled with pathos, so is Cooper's Avery Cross. His journey, his conscience, and the ethical dilemmas he faces are all at least moderately engaging. Is Avery's section as electric as Luke's? Absolutely not. Fortunately, Cooper is adept enough to take the audience wincing along with him. Hell, if the film had simply concluded with a little coda after the Avery section, you'd probably have read this review months ago when I actually saw the film.

Instead, Cianfrance and co-screenwriters Ben Coccio and Darius Marder tacked on the third act with Luke and Avery's sons (played by Dane DeHaan and Emory Cohen, respectively) playing out the string as their fathers' sins infect their lives. Perhaps if the sons, especially Cohen, were played by young actors with more gravitas--I'm extremely familiar with DeHaan's work, and he can play emotionally fragile and volatile, but it seems like he lacks the ability to thrive doing anything else--then the film wouldn't have ended on such a sour note. Cohen's performance not only lacks gravitas but is grating. Each line he delivers screams Long Island, well at least when you can understand him through the marbles that he's got lodged in his mouth. Moving past a performance that sticks out so plainly as inadequate, it's hard to say that the film would have been saved with a different actor in the role. The final section would have likely fallen flat regardless of the performances. The Place Beyond The Pines's conclusion is simply too long coming and is almost entirely punchless. Perhaps the final section plays differently if the film hadn't peaked at least 90 minutes earlier. That isn't the movie that we got, though, and The Place Beyond The Pines ends up uneven at best.

The Place Beyond The Pines is available for pre-order on DVD and Blu-ray on Amazon (their release date is August 6th) or you can stream on Amazon VOD as of today. Don't take my word on it. Watch for yourself.

Man on Film: Killing Them Softly

Killing Them Softly seemed to have all the ingredients for a great film. Starting with the writer/director of Chopper and The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford and adding a stellar cast featuring Brad Pitt, James Gandolfini, Richard B. Jenkins, Ray Liotta, and the criminally underrated Ben Mendelsohn should have meant Killing Them Softly would be damn near spectacular.

Instead, it was wrought with a heavy-handed approach and included a theme whose connectivity was strained at best, presumably losing a chunk of its pertinence in the hour that was reportedly cut from the first cut of the film. If you want an example of its hamfisted direction, look no further than Dominik's choice to have a heroin-shooting scene take place with the instrumental intro to The Velvet Underground's "Heroin" playing. Killing Them Softly also decided to employ audio from speeches occurring right around the 2008 election (when the film is set) regarding the mortgage crisis and ensuing market crash to drive home a point about how the robbery that set off everything collapsed the local criminal underworld financially, but the execution of this point is both crude and ineffective. Dominik gets points for trying, but these efforts come up short, much like most of the film does.

It is all really a shame because it feels like there was a great movie somewhere in there, but Dominik got lost along the way.

Man on Film: Animal Kingdom

Under the misguided idea that this was a contemporary Australo-Western, I went into a "Katy's pick" not really expecting the film that I was about to see.  What Animal Kingdom ended up being was a dark as hell crime drama centered around a boy being re-introduced to the extended family that his deceased mother had tried to keep him away from.

While I am somewhat hesitant to liken films to other films within this space, this film does feel akin to City of God, with its young protagonist thrown into a world rife with violence.  Animal Kingdom is much smaller in scope than the Fernando Meirelles masterpiece, and J, Animal Kingdom's hero, is much less charismatic and endearing than his City of God counterpart, Buscapé.

The real strength of the film is in the supporting cast.  James Frecheville, the young lead, is (presumably/hopefully) called upon to play a character essentially in a daze.  As the film kicks off, his addict mother has overdosed, and he heads back to her family, a family of criminals.  It is those criminals who make the film compelling.

Joel Edgerton* stands out in his relatively brief time on screen as the immensely likable Baz.  It's is his character's presence that the entire film essentially hinges upon.  Without his charm, the Cody family (Baz is the eldest son Pope's best friend and partner)  is not one that can be empathized with.  While they are criminals, Baz, their leader, is such a strong presence that it is easy to root for the crew from the start.

*Recognizable to many (for better or worse) as Owen Lars from the abysmal Star Wars prequels.

This is important because once that element is missing, the rest of the family begins to unravel, and it's not pretty.  Once the shit hits the fan and the paranoia reaches a fever pitch, the brothers Cody begin to self-destruct fantastically.  J's coke-fueled drug-dealing uncle, Craig, implodes before our eyes, and Sullivan Stapleton does his best to channel Ray Liotta when making this turn.

The performance that really makes the film though is that of Ben Mendelsohn as Pope.  Pope's presence is an unnerving one.  A sociopath at his core, the danger Pope poses to everyone around him lingers in the air, tension building uncomfortably, released intermittently and randomly through outbursts only to build right back up again almost instantaneously.  Pope's desire to fit in with and ultimately be depended upon by his family and friends at first seems slightly pathetic but slowly this effort on his part shows evidence of his attempting to be a human--something he is in form only.  The chaotic energy he brings to the film is frightening, and Mendelsohn brings unhinged to a seldom-seen cinematic level.

I would also be remiss if I made no mention of the performance of Jacki Weaver.  The family had to get fucked up somehow, and it was her turn as the enabling mother who always wants to be in the middle of her boys' schemes and misdeeds.  Her willingness to do anything for her boys, no matter the moral implications, is ultimately what sets the stage for their demise.  As the movie progresses, her moral ambiguity gives way to a complete and utter amoral core, where she is willing to do anything to anyone to protect her sons, even if it means fucking her own grandson over. 

As Guy Pearce's Detective Leckie tries to protect J, he ends up throwing him to the wolves that are his family. That is where Animal Kingdom sets itself apart from the standard crime drama fare.  By the time, the end of the film rolls around the cub, J, either has to eat or be eaten.

Whether or not that particular element is intrinsically Australian (I'll refrain from stepping into the realm of cultural stereotyping, fun as I may find it to be), the film seems to be imbued with the lawlessness that we Americans tend to place upon the wild continent of Australia. There is a sparse, contemplative nature to the film that boldly compliments the narrative, a self-assured decision from the first-time feature-length writer/director David Michôd.  This is an impressive debut to be sure, and it leaves me looking forward to an Australian film that doesn't even exist--Michôd's follow-up to Animal Kingdom.

Oh, and I totally forgot how hot Laura Wheelwright was in this movie until I rewatched the trailer.

Ben Mendelsohn and Laura Wheelwright in Animal Kingdom

Katy would have been upset if I hadn't mentioned this.