CANNES 2012: John Hillcoat’s LAWLESS

CANNES 2012: John Hillcoat’s LAWLESS

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“It is not the violence that sets men apart. It is the distance he is prepared to go.” Old west pragmatism oozes through the gruff words of Forrest Bondurant (Tom Hardy), the 1930s bootlegger and all around bear of a man at the center of John Hillcoat’s Depression-era gangster film, Lawless. One of three brothers profferring booze to Chicago gangsters from their country Virginia stills, Forrest is seemingly indestructible, a local legend for his endurance and survival. The same cannot be said of his younger sibling Jack (Shia LaBeouf), the embodiment of American ambition, who becomes a human punching bag when faced with the slightest conflict. Surname aside, Forrest and Jack couldn’t be more different in size and nature, and they come to represent contrasting visions of Manifest Destiny crashing against each other through family.

Parallel to the battle between tradition and progress runs a sturdy Western theme, and Lawless imbeds the fear of economic expansion in the nuances of brotherly resolve. Ultimately, the two men must confront their ideological conflicts when urban corruption and violence invade the Bondurant’s small town of Franklin, in the form of a corrupt D.A. and his hired gun, a reptilian neat freak named Charlie Rakes (Guy Pearce). This subtext makes Hillcoat’s brutal violence all the more potent. Forrest’s consistent use of brass knuckles on adversaries says a lot about his desire (and ability) to end fights quickly, protecting his family and profit margin with little fuss. In this sense, Lawless uses the gangster film genre to defend the virtues and returns of protecting a small business from corporate takeover.

Loyalty and revenge dominate the film’s mostly messy narrative arc. But convention is only a means to an end for Hillcoat, whose contained vision of Prohibition-era America lingers on intimate details of human suffering; dirt hitting a coffin face, the fluttering of scorched leaves propelled into the air by a dynamite blast, and the gurgling blood from a slit throat are all reminders that Hillcoat’s cinema is equally brutal and poetic. Also, the Great Depression may not be the film’s central focus, but the disparate souls littering the roadsides further remind us that life outside the gangster universe is equally gritty, if not more dispiriting. These images are often juxtaposed with Nick Cave’s brooding score.

Both Hardy and Pearce’s superb method performances deserve the attention they will inevitably receive, and LaBeouf nicely realizes a balance of tenderness and sleaze. But ultimately, Hillcoat sees performance as a way to induce mood, a way to explore landscapes and interiors through an actor’s physical stature. One of the more wonderfully blunt examples of this approach comes early in the film when infamous gangster Floyd Banner (Gary Oldman) stops his speeding car on Franklin’s main drag, walks calmly up the boulevard, and shreds his pursuer’s vehicle with Tommy gun fire. Jack witnesses the shootout from close range, and the slight grin Banner gives him while calmly walking away speaks volumes about the near-mystical divide between gangsterdom and reality.

While Lawless goes astray during an odd prologue mired in voice-over, it’s a genre film with many bold ideas and characterizations. Hillcoat’s ongoing deconstruction of backwoods legends, something he and Cave began to address in the grimy, sweat-soaked The Proposition (2005), takes a more sobering and human turn in Lawless. This is the American outback in all its bloody glory.

Glenn Heath Jr. is a film critic for Slant Magazine, Not Coming to a Theater Near You, The L Magazine, and The House Next Door. Glenn is also a full-time Lecturer of Film Studies at Platt College and National University in San Diego, CA.

OSCARS DEATH RACE: Surveying the race for Best Actor

OSCARS DEATH RACE: Surveying the race for Best Actor

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[EDITOR'S NOTE: Sarah D. Bunting of Tomatonation.com is watching every single film nominated for an Oscar before the Academy Awards Ceremony on February 26, 2012. She is calling this journey her Oscars Death Race. She has completed the category for Best Actor and now surveys the competition. For more on how the Oscars Death Race began, click here. And you can follow Sarah through this quixotic journey here.]

The Best Actor category is more interesting, to my mind, for who didn't get a nomination than for who did, although I guess the actual nominations are interesting. "Baffling" counts as interesting, right?

Let's get to it.

nullThe nominees

Demián Bichir (A Better Life): The performance looked better than it was thanks to subpar acting by his castmates. A solid outing, no more.

George Clooney (The Descendants): The Cloon did his best under the circumstances, and I acknowledge that the performance proceeds from the script, but I hated the script and the performance is not very good in the second place. It's not Keanu, but it's not very good. The blocking is lazy; a lot of the scenes land like first rehearsals, or he's letting the ugly shirts craft the character beats. From a craft standpoint, I don't get this nom at all. From a "sometimes, the universe wants — nay, needs — to remind the Cloon that he is loved" standpoint, it makes more sense and I can mostly live with it. A win would kind of gross me out, though — and Vegas has him sitting at short odds…

Jean Dujardin (The Artist): …but SAG went for Gallic charisma, and that award is a pretty reliable indicator. Dujardin is very good, and while this isn't my favorite performance nominated, I won't mind if it wins, and it probably will.

Gary Oldman (Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy): Initially, I had a "wait, seriously?" reaction to this nod, but much like the movie itself, the idea grew on me. But he's good here because he's so quiet in the role…and he might be too quiet. Should win for something one of these days; probably not for this.

Brad Pitt (Moneyball): Great, welcoming, confident performance by an actor who has finally grown all the way into his face. Born to play the role; hit all the notes in it. He'll likely have to content himself with a job well done, though.

Who shouldn't be here: Bichir and Clooney don't rate, given the talent that got passed over entirely.

Who should be here, but isn't: Hope you packed a lunch: Woody Harrelson in Rampart, Tom Hardy and/or Joel Edgerton in Warrior, Michael Fassbender in Shame, and Ralph Fiennes in Coriolanus. You could make an argument for Paul Giamatti in Win Win; you could also argue that you've seen that work from him before.

Who should win: Pitt.

Who will win: Dujardin, I'd say, but Clooney isn't a waste of your money.

Sarah D. Bunting co-founded Television Without Pity.com, and has written for Seventeen, New York Magazine, MSNBC.com, Salon, Yahoo!, and others. She's the chief cook and bottle-washer at TomatoNation.comFor more on how the Oscars Death Race began, click here.

TONY DAYOUB: TINKER TAILOR SOLDIER SPY is a worthy remake filled with lonely characters

TONY DAYOUB: TINKER TAILOR SOLDIER SPY is a worthy remake filled with lonely characters


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The tall, athletic man introduced earlier in Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy as British Intelligence officer Jim Prideaux (Mark Strong) walks into a classroom and begins to write his name on the chalkboard. Only he does not write the name we’ve come to know him by. The typically garrulous young males attending the tony prep school remain blissfully unaware of their new teacher’s identity as he starts handing out the class assignment. But the viewer is all too keenly aware of who Prideaux is if only for the fact that we saw him shot in the back at the start of Tomas Alfredson’s film adaptation of the John le Carré novel. Is this a flashback? Or did Prideaux somehow survive the shooting? Prideaux’s mild demeanor belies his efficiency, a fact his students become aware of when a bird trapped in the chimney suddenly flies into the classroom in confusion. Prideaux rapidly pulls out a club from his desk drawer and swats the bird down to the ground where it continues to squeal in pain. As Alfredson directs the camera to capture the students’ horrified reactions, the sound of Prideaux beating the bird to death comes from off-screen.

nullThis memorable scene crystallizes much of the convoluted – yet ultimately satisfying – story of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. For one, the momentary confusion caused by the squawking bird is a metaphor representing the chaos a Soviet double agent is causing within the upper ranks of the Circus, the British Intelligence branch MI6 that Prideaux was working for at the time he was shot in Budapest. Secondly, the viewer must determine whether what is being shown is taking place in the film’s past or its present. Lastly, the sequence illustrates how a character who’s been left to languish in a sort of purgatory for a failed espionage mission may actually be underestimated in his level of competency. The treatment of Prideaux after the shooting – torture, reassignment and disavowal – has been a far more protracted death than the mercy killing he granted the poor animal.

One could say the same thing about George Smiley (Gary Oldman), ex-Deputy Director of the Circus, who was dismissed along with his boss, the mysteriously designated Control (John Hurt), when Prideaux was believed to have been killed in Hungary. Control had secretly sent Prideaux there in order to uncover a mole amongst his top lieutenants: “Tinker” (Toby Jones), “Tailor” (Colin Firth), “Soldier” (Ciarán Hinds) and “Beggarman,” Smiley himself. Smiley’s firing along with that of Control’s made the question of his treachery academic. But both operatives were now on the outside, unable to ferret out which of the other three officers was providing the Soviet double agent some of the Circus’s most valuable secrets. The aimless Smiley goes about his daily routine – swimming in the Thames, contemplating the ruin of his marriage and unable to shake the paranoia inherent in his lifelong career – all but forgotten by his country. However, the death of Control, and intelligence gathered by an underling, Ricki Tarr (Tom Hardy), initiates an invitation from the Prime Minister’s office for Smiley to return and continue his former boss’s investigation into the identity of the traitor.

nullThe usually volatile Oldman is superb as the constricted Smiley. Oldman’s portrayal is even more amazing considering it follows in the footsteps of Alec Guinness, whose performance as Smiley in the original 1979 BBC miniseries and its sequel, Smiley’s People – both available on DVD from Acorn Media if you’d like to compare – is among his most iconic. Over the hill, his hair streaked with gray, and wearing oversized spectacles – red frames for the flashback sequences, horn-rimmed for the ones set in the film’s present day, 1974 – Oldman’s Smiley is a study not so much of repression but economy. Smiley never raises his voice in the film, not even at the close friend who is cuckolding him, except for when an associate tries to justify his betrayal of queen and country. Smiley’s reflective glasses even serve as an occasional blind, shielding his tempestuous, observant eyes from any examination. When a fly is buzzing around the interior of a car driven by protégé Peter Guillam (Benedict Cumberbatch), Smiley, rather than fruitlessly wave his hand in the air chasing it down, waits until the fly is close enough to the window to roll it down and let suction take care of the rest.

What one finds most striking about Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is the anguish and loneliness that lies at the heart of its brittle, cold exterior. As the movie starts to wind down, the depth of alienation experienced by those in this nasty profession becomes ever more apparent. The desire for emotional connections – the utter loneliness of the job – drives many of the film’s players, including Prideaux, the closeted Guillam, the traitorous mole and yes, even the stoic Smiley. Tarr, the lethal operative whose intelligence relaunched the inquiry, is eager to finish his part of the mission to chuck it all for a quiet life raising a family. Prideaux and Guillam, each separately involved in his own secret homosexual relationship, are the epitome of the type of individuals bred for the espionage service, men of character who have developed an unerring ease in cultivating a double life. And then there’s Smiley, whose frustrating love for his philandering wife is the only chink in his carefully built armor. Smiley’s weakness might just be the proper fuel for his instinctive ability to unearth his fellows’ motivations and find out who the mole really is.

Atlanta-based freelance writer Tony Dayoub writes about film and television for his blog, Cinema Viewfinder, and reviews DVDs and Blu-rays for Nomad Editions: Wide Screen, a digital weekly. His criticism has also been featured in Slant’s The House Next Door blog, Opposing Views and Blogcritics.org. Follow him on Twitter.