7/9/15: Sheep In Wolf’s Clothing

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Ansel Roth, Beth Grant, brainwashing, character dramas, Chris Ellis, cinema, cult leaders, cults, dark comedies, deprogrammers, dramas, dysfunctional family, fall from grace, Faults, feature-film debut, film reviews, films, Heather McIntosh, hotel rooms, Jon Gries, Lance Reddick, Leland Orser, Leonard Earl Howze, living in a hotel, Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Michael Ragen, Movies, Nicholas Tucci, parent-child relationships, Riley Stearns, Sarah Beth Shapiro, surreal, The Cub, washed-up, worried parents, writer-director

Cinema has a long, proud tradition of anti-heroes, although few are quite as memorable (or reprehensible) as Ansel Roth (Leland Orser). When we first meet Ansel, the de facto protagonist of writer-director Riley Stearns’ incredible Faults (2014), he’s trying to use a previously used voucher to scam a free breakfast from a hotel’s in-house restaurant. The confrontation turns physical after Ansel refuses to leave, eating ketchup packets with a fork while the restaurant manager and waiter attempt to wrestle him to the ground. The capper to the whole fiasco? Turns out Ansel pulled the voucher out of the trash in the first place. The cost of the meal that he refused to pay? $4.75. That, my friends, is conviction.

Ansel is a scruffy rat, a washed-up, defeated con artist who no longer believes in the bullshit he peddles but doesn’t really have a lot of options, at this point in time. Shuffling from one hotel conference room to the next, he discusses cult deprogramming to tiny groups of largely disinterested people, all while trying to sell a book that no one wants. Despite having a former best-selling book and television show, a professional fall from grace and ensuing divorce have left Ansel a broken, wretched schlub, trading on former glories that are in danger of being completely forgotten, leaving his entire existence in question.

After a particularly disastrous “seminar,” Ansel is approached by Paul (Chris Ellis) and Evelyn (Beth Grant), a couple of salt-of-the-earth types who want the former deprogrammer’s help in rescuing their beloved daughter, Claire (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), from the clutches of a cult. Despite initially blowing them off, Ansel is forced to change his tune after his publisher, Terry (Jon Gries), drops him as a client and sends the menacing Mick (Lance Reddick) to collect what Ansel owes for his latest flop of a book. Ansel agrees to “kidnap” and deprogram Claire, undoing the cult’s brainwashing and giving the couple back their daughter…all for an incredibly steep price, of course.

Ansel and his lunk-headed partners snatch Claire off the street and spirit her away to a motel room, where Ansel plans to spend the next five days deprogramming her. While Claire, at first, seems more than a little shell-shocked, in no time at all, she’s engaging in a philosophical back-and-forth about her life, her involvement with the cult and, to a great extent, the abject worthlessness of Ansel’s own existence. Things really get interesting when Ansel reveals that Claire’s parents are staying in the adjoining room.

As Paul’s aggressive, “my way or the highway” attitude threatens to wreck Ansel’s progress (along with giving us plenty of good reasons for Claire’s initial departure), Terry and Mick continue to hover in the background, promising to take the grubby deprogrammer apart and put him together backward if they don’t get their promised cash. Will Ansel be able to keep his own wreck of a life together long enough to save Claire or will it all end up being the straw that broke the camel’s back?

After gaining some measure of notice with the clever “raised by wolves” short The Cub (2013), Stearns really kicks down the door and blowtorches the joint with his debut full-length, Faults. As with John Maclean’s similarly excellent Slow West (2015), Stearns’ film is a perfect synthesis of form, theme, performance and technique, each element blending into and leading into the next like Ouroboros eating its tail. The script is tight, taut and full of exceptional dialogue, giving the film the feel of a really good stage play, a feeling reinforced by the tendency to confine the action to small, contained locations (the motel room, the van, Ansel’s car). Faults is the kind of film that can hold an audience rapt with nothing more than two characters talking, a definitively old-fashioned notion in this era of sensory overload.

Cinematographer Michael Ragen shoots some incredibly beautiful, evocative images, doubly impressive when one considers that Faults is his full-length debut, as well, after a series of shorts and music videos. Ragen was also responsible for shooting The Cub, so here’s to hoping that his relationship with Stearns continues to bear such impressive fruit. Ragen’s often dreamlike images are perfectly complimented by Heather McIntosh’s whimsical score: the score helps to leaven the film’s darker edges and accentuates the more absurd comedy elements quite nicely. Faults looks and sounds consistently great, making it one of the more attractive films to come down the pike this year.

Towering over everything like a pair of Titans, however, are the astounding performances by Leland Orser and Mary Elizabeth Winstead. Despite how great the script and production is, despite the raft of solid supporting performances (Ellis and Grant are particularly good as Claire’s parents) and the tight sense of economy, Faults is, at its heart, a two character study and those two characters are Ansel Roth and Claire, Leland Orser and Mary Elizabeth Winstead. If there are any cracks in this foundation, any failure on the part of the principals to take us “all the way,” than Faults would become just a curiosity, a kindred spirit to Jane Campion’s odd Holy Smoke (1999). Luckily for us all, Orser and Winstead turn in two of the very best performances of the entire year.

Orser, a character actor whose career encompasses everything from walk-ons in The Golden Girls and Se7en (1995) (he was the male half of the “lust” setpiece) to more substantial roles in films like Alien: Resurrection (1997), Saving Private Ryan (1998) and Liam Neeson’s Taken franchise, is an absolutely mesmerizing presence here, demanding our attention like an immutable black hole. There’s no notion of separation between actor and character, here: no zippers or seams in this particular “costume.” Rather, we get a complete portrait of an impossibly fractured, miserable man, a loathsomely smooth-talking snake-oil salesman who believes in nothing whatsoever, including his own bullshit. From that opening introduction in the restaurant all the way to Ansel’s shocking “evolution,” there’s not one missed note or misstep in Orser’s performance. I fully expect him to be snubbed come awards’ season but know this: he absolutely deserves to be represented when they announce the short-list for Best Actor in a Leading Role, hands-down.

Winstead, who first came to prominence via performances in genre pictures like The Ring 2 (2005), Final Destination 3 (2006), Black Christmas (2006), Death Proof (2007) and The Thing remake (2011), is nothing short of a revelation here, giving us what surely must be the trickiest, most subtle performance of her entire career. The co-mingled sense of naive innocence and steely determination is a heady one and watching Claire slowly assume control of the whole messy situation is one of the greatest cinematic pleasures I’ve experienced in some time. Winstead is completely invested in the performance, giving Claire the kind of multi-dimensionality that marks the very best cinematic creations. Immense kudos to Winstead for her fearless performance: Stearns is her real-life husband and I’m assuming that their relationship allowed her to open up in ways that might not have been possible with another filmmaker. Regardless of the reason, Winstead is quite marvelous as Claire, from her parking lot intro (she puts up a pretty good fight!) all the way through the film’s multiple surprise revelations and twists.

The aforementioned twists, another facet of Stearns’ fantastic script, are yet another reason why I found myself falling in fast love with the film. Quite simply, Faults is the furthest thing from a predictable, run-of-the-mill film as possible. While I’m sure that many audience members might call some of the surprises, I seriously doubt whether anyone will be able to predict them all: the last 20 minutes of the film was a constant barrage of “rug-pulling” that was as exhilarating as it was unpredictable. For all of that, however, Faults still feels completely organic: any and every twist revelation is earned, nothing is unduly telegraphed and the whole film feels as smart as advanced trigonometry, albeit much more fun.

So, here I stand, my application in hand to become a devoted acolyte of the transcendent Faults (no “the,” if you please, as Claire patiently informs Ansel). I’m fully ready to give myself over to flawless filmmaking, extraordinary performances and a casually brilliant script, ready to take that next step and “progress” to quality filmmaking. I’m here to recruit you in this endeavor, as well, to take your hand and lead you to the same light I found. No need for deprogrammers here, my friends: let the Church of Stearns show you the way.

 

1/17/15 (Part One): Set An Extra Place at the Table

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A Lonely Place to Die, action films, Adam Wingard, Best of 2014, Brendan Meyer, brother-sister relationships, bullies, Chase Williamson, children in peril, cinema, covert military action, Dan Stevens, dark comedies, Drive, electronic score, families, favorite films, film reviews, films, Joel David Moore, Lance Reddick, Leland Orser, Maika Monroe, military coverup, military experiment, Movies, mystery, Robby Baumgartner, Sheila Kelley, Simon Barrett, Steve Moore, stylish films, Tabatha Shaun, The Guest, thrillers, war veterans, writer/director teams, You're Next

Hot on the heels of their surprise hit, You’re Next (2013), director Adam Wingard and writer Simon Barrett have returned with another gleefully demented genre offering. Whereas their last film took the “home invasion” sub-genre into some truly inspired new directions, this time around, the dynamic duo have set their sights on “stranger in our home” films. Like You’re Next, The Guest (2014) is a gonzo good time, full of clever writing, subtle black-as-coal humor and some truly asskicking action setpieces. At the center of the film is a truly inspired trio of performance from Dan Stevens as the handsome, charismatic and ultra-sensitive “golden boy” who may or may not be a murderous psychopath and Maika Monroe and Brendan Meyer as the savvy kids who may or may not be able to stop him dead in his tracks. The end result? Over 90 minutes of pure, pulpy, cinematic bliss and another check in the “Win” column for the Wingard/Barrett juggernaut.

As the Peterson’s mourn the unexpected death of their soldier son, Caleb, in Iraq, a mysterious visitor shows up and puts the household into a topspin. David (Dan Stevens), a quiet, ridiculously polite and charismatic young man, claims to be a friend of Caleb’s and fellow soldier. After getting discharged, David sought out the Petersons, as per Caleb’s last wish, in order to “watch over them.” Mother Laura (Sheila Kelley) is only too happy to have David around, since any reminder of her beloved son is a good thing. Father Spencer (Leland Orser), however, isn’t quite as big on David, worried that the seemingly nice young man might have a bit of “the PTSD.” For their parts, Caleb’s sister and brother, Anna (Maika Monroe) and Luke (Brendan Meyer), seem to regard David with a mixture of curiosity and faint amusement: the guy is so unbelievably polite and nice that he might as well have stepped out of a woodcut, for all his old-fashioned “aw shucks”-ness.

David ends up staying with the Petersons and goes about the business of ingratiating himself into the family’s good graces: he helps Luke with his homework (with some difficulty), drinks beers with Spencer as he pours his heart out about his shitty job, helps Laura around the house and goes with Anna to a Halloween party. All seems nice and normal, even if we sometimes get shots of a pensive David that border on the unsettling. At one point, Spencer asks David if he’s tired: “I don’t need much sleep,” he responds, with a knowing look, and anyone paying attention should get a little of the ol’ goose flesh.

The situation hits a new level when David finds out that Luke is being bullied at school: in a truly awe-inspiring scene, David has Luke take him to the bullies, at an isolated roadside bar well-known for serving minors. After taunting the high school toughs with a particularly offensive drink order, David proceeds to wipe the bar up with the creeps in a scene that makes Road House (1989) look like a commercial for allergy medicine. The point is crystal clear: David is absolutely not the kind of guy that you want to fuck with, in any way, shape or form.

As David continues to thread his way through the lives of the various Petersons, however, Anna begins to notice that strange things are happening all around them, including the unexpected death of one of her friends. As Anna begins to believe that David might not be quite who he seems, the rest of the family seem to close ranks, more convinced than ever that David is a true-blue friend and confident. Is Anna right or has she unfairly maligned this sweet, young man? Will she be able to convince her family of the “truth” (whatever that might be) before it’s too late? Why, exactly, is David here? Is he really trying to protect the family, at all costs, or is his real mission to destroy everything? By the time it’s all over, Anna will have learned a very important lesson: always be careful who you invite into your home…not all guests are created equal.

Similar to You’re Next, The Guest is sort of a hybrid-genre film, melding together elements of action, horror, thriller, comedy and drama into one seriously delicious stew. The film is stuffed to bursting with some ridiculously energetic action setpieces (the bar beat-down is, without a doubt, solid gold: if you don’t shadowbox the screen, you might be watching a different film), as well as some genuinely nail-biting moments of pure tension. The drama elements are well-represented via the family’s interpersonal dynamics and the ways in which they subtly come to accept (and rely on) David’s presence in their lives. One of the biggest and best surprises regarding The Guest is how funny it actually is: while this is certainly not an out-and-out laugh-riot, the vein of dark humor that runs through the film is quite pronounced and leads to some of its best moments. The bar fight sequence is a great example of all of the elements coming together in one heady moment: this is the kind of genre splicing that folks like Robert Rodriguez and Quention Tarantino excel in and Wingard/Barrett knock it right out of the park.

At times, The Guest almost plays like a more tongue-in-cheek, conventional version of Refn’s Drive (2011): the production values are high, the John Carpenter-influenced electro-score (courtesy of Steve Moore) is utterly fantastic and the whole thing is stylish almost to a fault (the finale, in particular, is an absolute masterclass in stylish anarchy). Where Ryan Gosling’s Driver was a self-styled, if nihilistic, white knight, however, Dan Steven’s David is a decidedly more shadowy individual: for the majority of the film, it’s impossible to really gauge his motives, lending an overriding air of unease and tension to the proceedings. We knew why the Driver was doing what he did, regardless of how violent, self-destructive or pointless his actions, but we’re never sure about David. Even when he’s whupping ass on the “bad guys,” we’re still never quite sure if he’s right or wrong.

While the entire cast is solid, Stevens, Monroe and Meyer are exceptional as the trio at the center of everything. Monroe is a nice, strong female character, with a sardonic edge and just enough youthful inconsistency to make her seem like a real person, rather than a stock “final girl.” For his part, Meyer makes Luke quite likable, while still allowing for subtle hints of darkness around the edges: the scene where he emulates David and kicks the shit out of one of his bullies is all kinds of awesome but it’s also kind of scary and unhinged: predominantly known for TV roles in the past, here’s to hoping that Meyer gets more opportunities like this to stretch his wings.

And then, of course, there’s Dan Stevens. Almost supernaturally good-looking, with piercing eyes and a purposefully blank expression, the British actor is the kind of fellow that you might expect to play a prince in a life-action Disney film, not a potentially insane and murderous misanthrope. His performance is pitch-perfect, however, full of the kind of subtle mannerisms and expressions that build his character without handing the audience a cheat-sheet to follow along with. When David is being nice, he’s the kind of dude that everybody wants to hang out with: nowhere is this made more clear than the awesome scene where David triumphantly walks into the Halloween party, carrying kegs like they were six-packs. It’s the kind of bit that makes you want to high-five the nearest bro. When David unleashes the darkness, however, he’s absolutely terrifying, leading to some of the most surprising, shocking bursts of violence I’ve seen in some time. It’s a terrific balancing act and it’s to Stevens immense credit that he makes it look so easy. Let’s hope this is but Act One of Steven’s career in genre films, since we could absolutely use more of this guy ASAP.

Perhaps the most important aspect of The Guest is how much fun it is. Like You’re Next, Wingard and Barrett’s newest film is an absolute blast from start to finish: adrenalized, stylish and smart, The Guest is almost calculatedly crowd-pleasing, jumping from one awesome setpiece to the next. If the ultimate revelation about what’s going on is both a little silly and a little tired, it’s the only thing about The Guest that ever feels less than totally righteous: I’m not saying that I disliked the “reveal” so much as that I felt Barrett could have come up with something a little stronger and/or stranger. That being said, I wouldn’t change a single frame of the climax, which manages to toe the line between “ridiculous” and “ridiculously cool” with total aplomb.

Ultimately, The Guest is a metric ton of good times, all wrapped up in a nice, shiny package. When the film is completely off-the-rails, such as the bar fight, Halloween party and finale, it’s completely unbeatable. More than just an asskicking action film, however, Wingard and Barrett toss all kinds of subtle details into the mix that constantly elevate the film. From David’s extremely awkward sex scene with one of Anna’s friends to the subtle moment where David and Luke carve pumpkins to the triumphant scene where David takes Luke’s obnoxious principal to task, there are so many little quirks here that add immeasurably to the richness of the film’s tableau.

Judging by this film and You’re Next, it would seem that Wingard and Barrett have decided to be the preeminent neo-thriller advocates for our modern day and age. All I can say to that is: bring on the next one, ASAP…we need more of these films like we need water and oxygen.