This seemingly hackneyed tale of cops-and-robbers blossoms beyond a mere exercise in narrative thrills, focussing on a formalist level of mythic storytelling, a rites of passage telling of a young man's confrontation with worldly evil. Lawless sees director John Hillcoat further materialise himself as a rising auteur and though the film seems over tuned compared to his previous work, there is little to be disappointed with here.
Based on the novel The Wettest County In the World, author Matt Bondurant drew inspiration for his story from his own family history; his grandfather and two brothers and their participation in The Great Moonshine Conspiracy of 1935. Shia LeBeouf plays youngest brother Jack, with Tom Hardy and Jason Clarke as his older more world worn brothers. The three of them make ends meet selling homemade (illegal) liqueur during The Great Depression in Virginia; the brothers are neither greedy nor are they violent unless called upon, they are merely honest and good natured people working a living in a depraved world. Though these characters are capable of great violence, they are not bloodthirsty, though others unfortunately are. Lawless isn't for the faint hearted.
In steps villain of the piece Special Agent Charlie Rakes played by Guy Pierce; Rakes is an incarnation of evil and perhaps the slimiest most detestable villain we're likely to see all year. Working for a crooked politician, his purpose is to press down on the Bondurant brother's business to take a cut of their earnings like everyone else in the county. So begins a war of pride and steadfastness as the brothers, particularly Hardy's 'invincible' Forest, refuses to bow down. As the journey into bloodshed commences so does Jack's personal journey, with LeBeouf providing a very fine assured performance of a young man dragged rather than drawn into a war zone. The adolescent Jack shown in the opening segment who didn't have it in him to kill a farmed pig is soon long forgotten as the horror sets in. The turns in violence that grow throughout and emphasis on family strikes genuine notes of tragedy in a similar manner to that of Jeff Nichols' brilliant Shotgun Diaries.
Survival and the family unit under pressure has formed the basis for Hillcoat's last three features; the father/son relationship of The Road and the three Burns brothers of The Proposition - the film that Lawless relates to most. Like the mythic beast that was Arthur Burns, in Lawless we have a similar figure, albeit a more compassionate one in Forest Bondurant; his presence brings the weight of experience with it, a still fairly young life hardened by the world. Forest, like his damaged veteran brother Howard know that for their young Jack to survive he must be like they are, waiting for the event to finally bring that transition around.
All three of Hillcoat's films take place in brutal landscapes where life has becomes cheap and human bonds tested to lengthy extremes and Lawless is no different, save for a feeling of economy in the storytelling more apparent than the others. Nick Cave's screenplay is a driven and purposeful one set on accomplishing it's goals without pretension, an admirable quality that finds the picture feel rather hemmed in when put against the expansiveness of his more at ease approach for The Proposition. Perhaps it's due to there being more tasks to complete this time round; there is, after all, the love interests for Jack and Forest played by Mia Wasikowska and Jessica Chastain respectively. Then there's the matter of shoehorning Gary Oldman's criminal master Floyd Banner into the picture, a catalytic addition that helps along Jack's transition. Oldman is left with only two major scenes despite his name earning top billing, whether that is satisfactory will depend on the viewer's adoration over one of the world's finest performers. With such a striking screen presence Lawless would only have benefitted from more of Oldman's Banner, in fact the film could have benefited from being longer. At just under two hours it feels rather condensed, sometimes feeling stifled in its developments. Some extra time would have allowed it to unfurl more comfortably, leaving the incredible ensemble of actors feeling more necessary in their involvement.
The fact that Matt Bondurant dug up his family history through the grapevine and old documents provide the film with a touching personal quality of melancholia, a feeling of times past but with an essence of hope due to the story's timeless message of mortality. The film is bathed in a romanticised nostalgia, with Benoit Delhomme's photography producing as if from memory, Jack's memory? Or perhaps our version of memory as we try to imagine life of the past, relying only on films such as these to take us there. The photography heightens the landscape of the film's Virginia setting, a glorious land that probably didn't have trees as luscious as shown, or fields as vast and healthy, but if Jack Bondurant were alive today he would most likely imagine them as so.
As Lawless ascends to levels of ever increasing intensity before giving way to its impressively warm finale, the pieces of understated performances come together to form a rewarding conclusion, revealing how attached we've become to these largely reticent characters. Some well placed moments of humour are also fitting and work well to ease the nerves after an explosive third act. To analyse Lawless on the merit of narrative structure, characterisation, and plausibility would be ill advised as it clearly wasn't the intention of all involved to operate on such regular levels. This is a film playing off mythic conventions with archetypal characters representing more than the individual, something bigger than all of us yet something unavoidable. For this, it's easier to forgive its imperfections - its clashes of performance and narrow narrative space - because it's clear these were conscious decisions made to make the film work on a particular level, and it works just fine.
It's easy to forget just how daring and ambitious Christopher Nolan's recent Batman saga is; partly due to the much documented financial success of the first two instalments and the Oscar-winning turn of the late Heath Ledger as The Joker. Batman Begins and The Dark Knight were both welcomed with open arms by audiences who marvelled at the transcendent nature of these superhero films, with The Joker becoming a staple of modern pop culture and Nolan rising the bar of the blockbuster to previously unseen heights.
Perhaps it's easy to forget how much hung in the balance when Nolan first defied what was 'acceptable' for a super hero film due to just how successful they were. For a genre primarily targeted at a young demographic and one that despite some darker moments remained fun with more than a hint of camp, Nolan transformed a genre and future audience expectations overnight. With a gritty realist approach, complex and non-linear storytelling methods, attention to character, and just enough gadgetry and humour to get away with it, Nolan placed Batman in a world not unlike the crime epics of Martin Scorsese or Michael Mann, managing to create a world where a man dressed as a bat blended in seamlessly, a tall challenge if there ever was one and a challenge succeeded.
This closing chapter to The Dark Knight Trilogy is the most ambitious one in the series and while Nolan's intentions should never be deemed anything less than righteous it certainly makes for the most problematic film in the series. The Dark Knight Rises brings its epic story to a suitable and rewarding end making its 164minute run time worth the effort. However, the film does buckle under the sheer weight of its expansiveness and while never dragging, makes for a rather bloated film full of inconstancy and bumbling weaknesses.
8 years after the bleak closure of The Dark Knight we pick up with Gotham City in a time of peace. Batman has been inactive for all this time after taking the fall for Harvey Dent's crimes and Bruce Wayne still grief stricken from the death of Rachel Dawes haunts the empty rooms of the recently resurrected Wayne Manor like a Howard Hughes or Charles Foster Kane. With a limp and a stick he has shut himself off from all social contact save for his loyal loving butler Alfred (Michael Caine). As we're introduced to this self loathing and depression soaked former hero it's clear not just from the film's title that the only way for Bruce Wayne is up, he just needs a good reason to rise to the occasion. Enter Bane.
Like the opening bank heist which introduced us to The Joker, TDKR treats us to another elaborate heist sequence showing off the intimidating skill of its villain Bane (Tom Hardy). This time the action takes place in the air as Bane and his men place themselves in an arresting position to transport a nuclear physicist from one plane to another while taking down the trained men guarding him. The sequence, though less thrilling than The Joker's heist, is more than impressive with Nolan accomplishing as much of the action in camera as possible and at such dazzling heights. If any of this aerial sequence required heavy use of post-special effects it's certainly impossible to tell, the action feels as if it's happening for real, hardly commonplace within a blockbuster but Nolan has always taken much pride from his cinematic craft and old school sensibility.
The old gang of characters are back with Police Commissioner Gordon (Gary Oldman), Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman), as well as Alfred, but the film has many more players to introduce as well as its main villain. Joseph Gordon Levitt plays rookie idealist cop Blake whose own past draws tragic comparison's to Mr. Wayne's, Marion Cotillard is Miranda Tate - an environmentally interested business woman looking for funding from Wayne Enterprises, and Anne Hathaway is Selina Kyle - a talented thief who looks to liaise with Bane to turn the tables on Gotham's rich elite.
The Dark Knight naturally channelled post-9/11 fears into its story of nihilistic anarchy and TDKR takes this further with Bane now acting as terrorist leader, but in wake of the Wall Street protests and current economic climate the film becomes firmly interested in financial segregation. If Batman Begins owed somewhat to Blade Runner (1982), and TDK to Heat (1995), the only natural comparison to TDKR would be the work of Charles Dickens, in similar way to HBO's The Wire. As Bane's plans to level the stock market go ahead his henchman are planted within the targeted building as cleaners mopping the floors with Bane himself arriving as a motor bike carrier. Selina Kyle's introduction sees her as a planted waitress for a function held at Wayne Manor, with some 'upstairs downstairs' goings on shown through the high life of the party feasting on champagne to the depths of the kitchen as the workers slave away for them, the thematic intentions of the film (as well as Bane's) are made clear early on. If successful, Bane's scheme will level the rich and the disadvantaged will inherit the Earth.
The decision to go with Bane as Batman's nemesis was a wise move as until now the hero had only been outsmarted or simply outnumbered, having an adversary surpass Batman's intellect and psychical prowess makes Bane a truly intimidating force. In one key scene both face each other for the first time, unsurprisingly Bane dominates but the bludgeoning absorbed by Batman is shocking and filmed with a stark simplicity highlighting Bane's brutal and unpretentious fighting methods. He hits hard but never more than needed and his attack is both severe but precise. As choice of villain Bane is perfect but there are complications from his character; the brooding giant wears a mask throughout which at times muffles his words making certain low noted dialogue impossible to decipher, when speaking in higher tones his delivery has more clarity. The mask is an unquestionable characteristic due to the character's story in the comics ad graphic novels but TDKR never really explains the importance of this device other than it keeps him from feeling pain. More details are revealed later but after two hours without a good reason of why we can't hear the central villain clearly makes for a rather exasperating experience that one must call into question. Tom Hardy also feels sadly interchangeable in a role almost entirely masked throughout save for quick flashbacks, Bane is a psychical role but one that feels unworthy of Hardy's talents by the end as he's almost just a name on the poster.
The new additions to the cast are mostly impressive with Joseph Gordon Levitt on fine form as Blake, and Marion Cotillard as Miranda - a role at first vacuous but redeems by the end bringing important emotional resonance. But the film's highlight is Anne Hathaway's Selina Kyle who's role alludes to a Catwoman of sorts. As well as physically impressing as the demure yet deadly diva she also has some of the film's best lines and plays dramatics and light comedy without a single misstep.
Unfortunately despite these new characters being of upmost importance to the story and performed majorly well, these additions makes for a lot of elbowing between the new and the old. There just isn't room for everyone here with each character having their time to be awkwardly absent from the film at one point or another. Gary Oldman's understated Gordon has always impressed until now but barely gets a chance to shine, also Lucius Fox was always the Q to Wayne's Bond but the humour of their camaraderie is cut back with Fox being of no importance or enjoyment as a dramatic devise. The film's major flaw that is only heightened by or caused by the over the overpopulated cast is that it never hits a comfortable stride until the final hour. Of the three films TDKR is the only one that fails to flow at a complacent speed, often feeling clunky as it develops. Despite levelling out somewhat in the final stretch it only exchanges places with deadly plot holes of simple logistics and logic - plot holes I won't venture into for my refusal to enter spoilers.
There are plenty of fault on display in TDKR with gaping holes in plotting and unnecessary scenes in place of important ones omitted. It saddens me to speak at such length about the film's shortcomings but they are too obvious to ignore, the fact that this is undoubtably the weakest film in the trilogy only highlights just how impressive the first two instalments are because TDKR, for all its faults, is a spectacular achievement regardless of its predecessor's status. The decision to bring the drama back to Bruce Wayne for the most part and to ties it back in with the first film expresses an emotional resonance lacking in TDK, Christian Bale impresses more this time than ever before in the series. Despite females being his achilles heel, Nolan and his co-scripting brother Jonathan have crafted a truly memorable character in Selena Kyle, for better or for worse remaining the highpoint of this unsuppressed final film. The brothers Nolan also bring about closure in the most fulfilling of ways, making it all worth it in the end.
There's no doubt that this final episode of Batman's story will gain somewhat from repeat viewings, but there's little doubt that its fumbling moments will dissipate along with them. TDKR isn't a disappointing finale as it succeeds in the most important area of bringing rewarding closure, though this time Christopher Nolan's ambition is as problematic as it is rewarding.
At one point during Bronson, Michael Peterson returns to his homeland of Luton after a long stint in prison. He's asked why he's returning by a fellow train passenger - he replies, "to make a name for myself". Michael Peterson (played by Tom Hardy in a career making performance) was and still is Britain's most violent prisoner and during the examples on show here of Peterson's undiluted animalistic outbursts, you'd expect this violent beast of a man to be a serial killer. In 1974 he was arrested and sentenced to seven years in prison for a post office robbery, he got away with small change and no one was especially injured. Since Peterson's institutionalisation he has been moved 120 times while still a convict and to this day remains inside due to the years added to his sentence for his attacks on other convicts and prison staff. Now a legend of sorts and known as Charles Bronson (a pseudonym and alter-ego created by Peterson) he has well and truly made a name for himself, but at what cost and why?
Bronson is the perfect play mate with Andrew Dominik's excellent Chopper (2000); both films investigate the modern celebrity exposed from their real life subjects and show the dark side to masculinity in crisis. They both share similarities beyond the two incredible central performances on display and obviously come from the same place, however in Nicolas Winding Refn's hands Bronson becomes a entirely different animal, taking the viewer to the most unexpected places. The film is a surprisingly surreal and abstract experience, as Bronson explains and narrates events to a blank staring audience whilst dressed as what can only be described as vaudevillian performer. He looks closer to a supporting player from BBC's The League of Gentlemen than Britain's most violent criminal, but in this attire Winding is highlighting what Bronson really is, a performer.
The central theme to Winding's film is of a lost masculinity, a man without a place in the world, without footing. What can a man of limited intelligence and talent do to give his life meaning? Bronson options for violence, one thing he's genuinely good at; in his incarceration he has more control over his environment than when he's freed, he's happy with being institutionalised. He turns his violent acts into artistic set pieces, each one a new canvas to paint with fresh carnage. In one standout and frankly hilarious scene, Bronson kidnaps the prison librarian in a pathetic attempt to create trouble. While shouting at the librarian more than needs be and perversely forcing him to lube his naked body up for battle, we can only look on in disbelief and hold our mouths laughing, this should be disturbingly awful but Hardy is a joyous riot from start to finish. His masterpiece comes much later as once again he's kidnapped another staff member, this time his art teacher, who has up until now showed nothing but confidence in Bronson's artistic talents. He's proved himself a rather gifted illustrator, however he chooses to express himself artistically in other more drastic measures. Again this scene is unnerving, shocking, surreal, and violent.
Tom Hardy does I fine job in giving Bronson a delicate quality in certain scenes, adding rare glimpses of sensitivity that make him endearing if only for a moment. When returning to live with his parents and realising his belongings including his bed have been sold, are met with a childlike disappointment. Only moments after being let down by a woman he apparently loves, he sheds a tear then sets out to prove his love by bringing her a wedding ring - his violent outburst and domination of a jewellery store is again extreme in nature and counter balances the strange affection we have for him. Perhaps we feel for him because Michael Peterson is such a tragic and pathetic soul, and inside his cruel brutal exterior we see hints at a softer side locked away, just as he is.
Hardy's performance is one to marvel, full of such confidence and conviction it outweighs any of Bronson's misgivings. Nicolas Winding Refn is filmmaker who holds as much fearless creativity as he does talent, a gift that can sometimes deliver mixed results though always interesting ones. His many brave and drastic decisions don't always work here but can be forgiven as he's created a uniquely baffling film that could easily have been a run of the mill biographical piece if it weren't for his daring. Bronson is often criticised for not being willing to delve into Peterson's character, this isn't the film's aim, this isn't a study of one man per-se but rather about masculinity in existential crux, using Peterson as an essential jumping-off point. Bronson uses his violence as his artistic means for expression in a world he cannot understand or control, and as a piece of art this film deserves to be held up in high regard.
For fans of: A Clockwork Orange (1971), Raging Bull (1980), The King of Comedy (1983), Chopper (2000)
Hollywood often gives us double doses of filmic recipes - some coincidences, some planned - some brilliant, and some God awful. Warrior, starring Tom Hardy and Joel Edgerton as estranged brothers brought together by chance as they fight in a mixed martial arts tournament comes just six months after the release of The Fighter - the true story of 80s boxing brothers Micky and Dicky Ward as their family issues risk destroying everything they've worked for.
Whether Warrior was always planned to riff off of The Fighter's success is hard to say but even in this worst case scenario what's important is Warrior's elevation through the incredible talent is holds. Nick Nolte shines strongest as the two men's reforming alcoholic father whose mistreatment of them as young boys still cuts deep.
The two brothers we know will eventually come to blows are introduced as polar opposites and a fragmented family unit is quickly defined. Tommy Conlon (Hardy) is back from tour duty in Iraq, he is a brooding and troubled presence scarred by war, it is Tommy who dominates most of the film one way or another. Brendan (Edgerton) is a high school psychics teacher with wife and kids in a suburban wonder house. The two brothers live in entirely different worlds but both share a fighting background, they also have responsibilities and pressures that eventually will them into the ring once again as they compete for a prize that can save their loved ones lives. Tommy's story is more obscured and is revealed as the film moves on, it's a touching one which gives the brooding beast a heart and added dimension after seemingly fighting for selfish reasons. Brandon is struggling to pay the mortgage as his young daughter was taken severely ill and has rung up huge medical bills, Brandon takes to moonlighting as a MMA fighter once again to bring in extra money, his trusting wife believing he's bouncing clubs.
The brother's story's add sufficient emotional weight and have you rooting for both of them, the thought of either losing is tough going and for this Warrior succeeds. Both brothers have no idea the other is entering the same competition, they share the same distain for their father Paddy (Nolte) but Tommy still asks his father to train him as he knows him to be the best, Paddy knowing he's being used of course uses it as a chance to be let in to his son's life.
In the structure of Warrior is where it falls down; the first two thirds of the film we're shown the brother's predicaments, their familial differences and their eventual training with Paddy at Tommy's side. Nolte gives such an incredible heart-wrenching performance as a reformed man trying desperately to convince of his change that it's a shame he's forgotten in the last stretch of the film. There is an incredible scene between Paddy and Tommy where the father has been pushed too far by his resentful son and has thus been pushed back momentarily into his former hell, the roles are then reversed as Tommy the son almost cradles his father and comforts him to sleep. After this incredible moment, the best moment of the film, we well and truly enter the realm of the sports genre.
Warrior is of course a sports picture and a good one at that; the moments during the fights evoke the exact reactions brutal fights like these need. The camera watches almost from an audience perspective and doesn't utilise any cinematic trickery or chauvinism to highlight any significant blows - director Gavin O'Connor refuses us any glorified slow-motion instead remaining consistent with his naturalistic raw approach.
The competition thickens and of course it seems all the more likely the two brothers will meet in the final round (not a spoiler) . As the two brothers face each other we don't know what the outcome will be as both have so much to lose, we know which result is the most fathomable and it's hard to believe at this point that the rug will be pulled from beneath making it all rather predictable in the end. What the film needed after the winner is crowned was another 10-15 minutes to further us in the relationship of these two men and their father, we feel through the heightened melodrama of Tommy and Brendan's match that some equilibrium is restored but then it's cut short and the feeling is one of hollowness. Whereas The Fighter was a true to life drama first and a sporting picture second, Warrior suddenly feels like a sports concept with some added drama shoehorned in for the competitiveness to function. What's frustrating is that when it does focus on the three central men and their contempt for one another it does it so well. Sure the fights are excellently shot and the price is high for all involved but it's this short coming of cohesion between the competition and the emotion the film so brilliantly conveys in the beginning that stops Warrior from being great.
This is the world of Hollywood and Warrior is the best example of its produce. If only all 'popcorn' movies were of this quality, the term 'popcorn movie' could then cease to reside as a condescending term to mainstream movies. Warrior has a heart as well as adrenaline, two very important ingredients for success here. It's a shame then that the film eventually slips its heart from its sleeve and into the back pocket at the last hurdle.
