Hostiles (2017)

Like Roman J. Israel, Esq. before it, I had no idea what to expect from Hostiles because I hadn’t encountered any marketing for it; I conducted a minimal amount of research before seeing it and determined that it was worth a look based on the strength of its leading man (Christian Bale) and director (Scott Cooper, of the Oscar-nominated Crazy Heart). And in both cases, the element of surprise worked in the film’s favor; I genuinely didn’t know what to expect from Hostiles, and I found myself compelled by the plot and its anchoring performances.

Christian Bale stars as Captain Joseph Blocker, an Army man nearing retirement in 1892. For his last mission, Blocker is assigned by President Harrison to escort the ailing Cheyenne chief Yellow Hawk (Wes Studi) and his family to Montana. Despite losing several of his men in battle with Yellow Hawk, Blocker heads north, where he and his troops meet Rosalie Quaid (Rosamund Pike), whose family was recently slaughtered by a Comanche raiding party.

I think Luke Skywalker gave the best review of Hostiles near the middle of The Last Jedi when he advised, “This is not going to go the way you think.” Despite the setup of its opening shots, Hostiles does not behave like a traditional revenge western; though there are certainly elements of that subgenre, it’s far from the film’s main focus, and the film approaches that plotline from an angle that ends up serving the film’s actual center – the absurd senselessness of violence motivated only by a history of racial prejudice, and the deep scars left by that violence. It’s to the film’s credit that this lesson is never overtly didactic, instead filtered through the character of Blocker, who begins the film clinging to the certainty of his prejudice, only gradually eliding the gap between himself and Yellow Hawk.

From behind one of the most expressive mustaches since Aaron Eckhart in Sully, Bale gives a riveting performance as only Bale could, presenting all the rage and self-doubt from behind the stoniest of exteriors; his whole body shaking at times, wracked with all the emotions he’s struggling to repress, Bale does amazing things with a furrowed brow or a bowed head. His scenes with Wes Studi (who, I must say, it’s good to see again) are commanding for their silence, in which we see Blocker struggle to understand, while Yellow Hawk struggles to communicate – two men so mired in the past that they are unable to imagine a better present. The gradual development of Blocker’s character feels organic, and the film’s final “twist” (in that it’s unexpected, not that it turns out he was dead all along or something) helps us understand more about how much the character has changed over the course of the film.

If there’s an aspect of the film that feels out of place, it’s Rosamund Pike, who is so radiant that it’s difficult to believe she could look that pulled together after suffering so much violence in 1892. She’s a far cry from the silliness of Haley Bennett in The Magnificent Seven, and she does get some plot moments that show her character to be underestimated by the men who spend the film trying to protect her. She’s also a nice counterpart to Blocker’s internal battle with his own prejudice, but by and large the film tends to treat her like a footnote to the main plot. Having seen what Pike can do with a meaty role like “Amazing” Amy in Gone Girl, it’s a bit of a letdown to see her utilized in such an underwhelming role, especially when the film orbits an undercooked romance plot that feels more perfunctory and inevitable than necessary. (And I think the film knows it, because that envelope is never really pushed.)

Hostiles ends up reckoning with a dark chapter in American history by attempting to imagine a rehabilitated future borne out of mutual understanding. The film tracks Blocker’s recognition that he possesses so many of the things he hates about Yellow Hawk, least of all being a basic common humanity, while Yellow Hawk struggles to make himself understood to his escorting captain and to himself. Measured when it needs to be and bursting with western-style action in several key shootouts and raids, Hostiles is a surprisingly engaging film, particularly for a moviegoer who has never been all that fond of westerns.

(Sidebar: High Noon is probably my favorite western – what’s yours?)

Hostiles is rated R for “strong violence and language.” Written and directed by Scott Cooper. Based on a manuscript by Donald E. Stewart. Starring Christian Bale, Rosamund Pike, and Wes Studi.

Gone Girl (2014)

Gillian Flynn’s novel Gone Girl walked a fine line between pulpy page-turner and thematic depth, grappling with important issues while never losing the breakneck pacing shared by some of its shallower neighbors on the bookshelf.  With Flynn adapting the novel into a screenplay for director David Fincher, though, Gone Girl has well and truly arrived.

On their fifth wedding anniversary, Nick Dunne (Ben Affleck) comes home to find his house disheveled and his wife Amy (Rosamund Pike) missing.  A media hurricane ensues, in part because Amy was the subject of a series of children’s books authored by her parents, but largely due to Nick’s suspicious behavior during the first 48 hours.  What’s more, Nick is oddly evasive while helping the police follow the clues Amy left for their anniversary scavenger hunt.  As the film also reveals Amy’s diary entries, it asks:  Did Nick kill his wife?

As you saw from the summary paragraph, I’m going to do my best not to spoil any of the labyrinthine twists in the plot.  In fact, the surprises in the film are so well navigated that I almost wish I hadn’t read the book first.  There’s an element of almost unsettling tension in the film, even for a book-reader, and to that end I have to give kudos to Flynn for neatly adapting the structure and narrative of her novel into a finely tuned screenplay.  At two and a half hours, I was never bored because the movie keeps turning and churning, meticulously crafted with all the tightness of a boa constrictor wrapping itself around you.

I could attribute much of the success of Gone Girl to the stellar cast, as well.  Neil Patrick Harris is divinely unsettling as Amy’s suicidal first boyfriend, and who would have guessed that Tyler Perry’s turn as smarmy defense attorney Tanner Bolt would have been very nearly my favorite performance in the film?  (He certainly gets the best line, a perfect tension-popper right near the end of the film.)  That honor, though, goes to Rosamund Pike, who I’d say is looking at a very real Best Actress nomination once awards season rolls around.  Her Amy is even better than the character I’d imagined, her uncanny stares giving her the ice queen quality for which Hitchcock would have killed.  Affleck is a fine choice, too, but he’s exactly the Nick I pictured in my head; the film is Pike’s, and she owns it.

The individualist in me squeals with delight, though, at the fact that this film ultimately feels like the vision of a single person, plainly the product of the unmistakable eye of David Fincher.  For my money (noncontroversial claim ahead), Fincher has never made a bad movie, so the winning streak continues.  I love it when filmmakers so thoroughly retain their own style across projects, and as I grow older I’m really invested in movies that have that je-ne-sais-quoi “look” to them.  Christopher Nolan does it quite well, especially with Wally Pfister (and, because of the Pfister connection, Transcendence had the Nolan-look, too), and David Fincher is the other master of a consistent, distinctive look.  Marked by half-dim lighting and a loving lather of shadows, Fincher’s work always communicates visually the themes he intends to develop in the film proper.  Of course, the vaguely unsettling score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross has become a Fincher staple; as sore as I still am about it defeating Inception at the Oscars, the Reznor/Ross score for The Social Network suited the movie snugly.

This is a Fincher movie, with all the promise and directorial grace that Fincher brings to the table, and I think we can even understand it as part of a thematic trilogy, with The Social Network and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, about sociopaths and the carnage they leave in their wake.  The novel was a little bit more about the mutually destructive consequences of a dishonest long-term relationship, but the Fincher treatment is heavily inflected by the director’s own consistent theme of the banality of evil and the quotidian lurkings of the savage.  Where the novel emphasized the dishonesty of its first-person narrators to broaden the range of suspicion in Amy’s disappearance, Fincher’s adaptation focuses more on the performance of normalcy, demonstrating that the suburbs is a site for disguise and deceit.  Nick might be lying when he says he’s innocent, but so might his neighbor, who parlays a friendship with Amy into a tour of the talk show circuit.

There’s so much more to say about the movie, and maybe this isn’t the venue for it.  This is a film that needs to be discussed, among people who’ve been through it.  It’s an experience that shouldn’t be spoiled, maybe up to and including by the source material itself.  I’d like to revisit this film once the spoiler embargo is lifted, but in the meantime I’ll probably be going back to the Fincher well and hit up some of my DVDs.  For you, dear reader, if you’ve enjoyed any of Fincher’s recent work, Gone Girl demands to be seen.

Gone Girl is rated R for “a scene of bloody violence, some strong sexual content/nudity, and language.”  A throat is cut in a very graphic sequence, covering both killer and victim in blood, but the color is manipulated so it looks more black than red.  We see one woman topless twice, another nude from the side in the shower, and two male rear ends.  Language consists of a few F-bombs and one monologue revolving around a crude anatomical synecdoche for a woman.

Oh, hey, tomorrow is the Double-Oh-Seventh of the month!  Former Fincher collaborator Daniel Craig makes his MI6 debut in Casino Royale, so be back on Tuesday.

Jack Reacher (2012)

Somewhere in the aftermath of the infamous couchjump heard round the world, Tom Cruise became a bankable performer with a penchant for entertaining action flicks.  Jack Reacher is the latest in a set of diverting pictures, even if it’s not the most inventive movie you’ll see this month.

Cruise is the titular protagonist, an army cop turned drifter who lives off the grid in order to cherish fully the freedom for which he and his comrades have fought.  After an army sniper is arrested for the killing of five civilians, Reacher comes to Pittsburgh to close an old case and accepts the offer of attorney Helen Rodin (Rosamund Pike) to investigate further before running afoul of a criminal enterprise run by the weary survivalist “The Zec” (Werner Herzog).

Christopher McQuarrie pulls double duty as screenwriter (adapting from the Lee Child novels) and director, and it’s apparent that he’s the same man who brought us the script for The Usual Suspects.  Jack Reacher is similarly structured, with small moments (like bullets falling on the floormat of a car) repeated and explained later.  But unlike Suspects, Jack Reacher doesn’t rely on a last-minute game-changing gimmick, opting instead for a more straightforward approach that lets us discover the clues just a few seconds after Reacher does.  The dialogue is snappy, with Reacher rattling off one-liners like an American James Bond.

The plot turns on Reacher’s observations, including a few deductions that might impress even old Sherlock.  And Cruise does a good job as the passive action hero, without much of a personality but with enough natural charisma to carry off the script’s cleverer lines.  Cruise manages to make Reacher an engaging figure without sacrificing the enigma that otherwise makes his character a cipher.

Herzog is a particularly great choice for a villain, with his hoarse whispers conveying menace and malice tempered by his overwhelming ennui.  When The Zec retells his backstory, Herzog’s droll delivery imbues the dialogue with subtle terror that most other character actors would have overplayed or at best managed unsuccessfully.  Pike, though, is unfortunately interchangeable with most other actresses, serving as a generic sounding-board against which Reacher can be exceptionally bright.  Her chemistry with Richard Jenkins, who plays her father, is a success, but she doesn’t do much in the film until she’s cast in the damsel-in-distress role – a shame, since Pike seems to be just shy of the A-list.

In the third act, though, a near-cameo from Robert Duvall proves always welcome.  Playing a grizzly ex-Marine, Duvall is a good combination of “familiar face” with “begrudging sidekick,” turning an action movie trope into a reunion with an old favorite.

Jack Reacher isn’t fantastically inventive, its rejection of flashy stunts and show-off writing meaning it probably won’t be overly memorable in a few months.  This is no Mission Impossible, for example, where the only person smarter than the main character is the screenwriter, who can’t help but show off cleverness.  What saves the film from obscurity, though, is the smart script paired with Cruise’s performance as the hero. 

Jack Reacher is clearly the start of a prospective franchise, to which I say – more of this clever writing done without bombast is welcome.  Jack Reacher is, like Taken, a film that chooses to do well rather than to do flamboyant; if you want flash, stay home, but if you want a no-frills cerebral action film, reach for Reacher.

Jack Reacher is rated PG-13 “for violence, language and some drug material.”  There are several fight scenes and shootings; most are bloodless but still moderately intense.  There’s an F-bomb or two, a few scenes set in a bar, and a mention of cocaine.