Before the Devil Knows You're Dead (2007)

May you be in heaven half an hour, the old saying goes, before the devil knows you're dead.

The significance of the film's title is just one of the many things about which Sidney Lumet's latest - Before the Devil Knows You're Dead - will leave you thinking. Although I had a similar amount of unprocessed thoughts with Brokeback Mountain, I'm more inclined to label this film as "to my liking."

It seems almost a crime to give any sort of plot summary to the film, which jumps back and forth chronologically in order to properly tell the story of a heist gone wrong. (Sensing a trend in my summer movie tastes? I sure am.) Let's put it this way - you find all this out in about the first twenty minutes, anyway. Andy (Philip Seymour Hoffman) and Hank (Ethan Hawke) are two brothers, both of whom are hard up for money for reasons that the film will explain as the story progresses. So they decide on a victimless crime: the robbery of an insured mom and pop jewelry store. The catch? The mom and pop store belongs to Andy and Hank's mom and pop (Rosemary Harris [Spidey's Aunt May] and Albert Finney). Naturally, the heist goes horribly askew, and the film becomes a mix of covering the trail and making things right.

Credit Sidney Lumet's impeccable direction for keeping the film at an even pace while meandering to and fro in time. In a way, Lumet is doing the same thing that Lost has been doing for four years, only he's doing it one step better by making the flashbacks and flashforwards a) interesting and b) relevant to the plot.

Another element Lost is missing is strong character acting (of course Lost has its acting athletes like Michael Emerson, but... we're not here to review serialized drama, are we?). Each performance in here is top-notch; P.S. Hoffman deserved an Oscar for this more than he did for Capote (for the definitive Capote film, see Toby Jones in Infamous), Ethan Hawke redeems himself as an actor, and Albert Finney brings an intensity to his role that only a Brit can provide. Even Marisa Tomei, whose basic function here seems to be to stand around and look attractive, has her moments to shine.

I should also commend Kelly Masterson's masterful screenplay, which keeps the plot moving while alternating between moments of high tension and dramatic revelation. My only gripe here is that the fate of one of the main characters is left completely open ended; we last see this character running around a street corner, never to be seen or heard from again. It's as though the film should have gone on for another scene.

But it's good to see that, fifty years after his debut with 1957's Twelve Angry Men, Sidney Lumet hasn't lost his touch.