264 - The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford review

“The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford” isn’t really about the killing of the outlaw, but the notoriety surrounding it. In the 19th century, Jesse James was one of the most famous criminals around, a genuine celebrity with many admirers, fans, and enemies. It was perhaps fitting that a man who earned fame through murder should meet his end by one of his biggest fans.

Brad Pitt plays James, a loving family man and vicious killer with a sickly appearance who yet carries a dominating presence. Pitt gives a great performance here, appearing gaunt and so intense that his eyes look as if they will spill out of their sockets and onto his face. Permanently clad in a black suit, he often looks like the Grim Reaper, and everyone around him acts accordingly. It’s an incredible stroke of casting; a huge celebrity embodying another huge celebrity by acting very much mortal and larger than life.

Casey Affleck plays Robert Ford, the man who gained his own massive fame after cutting down his idol. The first time we see Ford talking to James, we can tell that he has a platonic infatuation with the gang leader. As Ford grew up, he endlessly poured over newspaper articles and dime novels about James, and grew to desire the same type of spotlight himself. “I can’t tell if you want to be like me, or if you want to be me,” James tells Ford at one point, one of his many observations delivered in an even tone with a threat buried underneath the surface. But James seems bemused by Ford, who can recite by heart virtually anything he has read about the outlaw. We sense that James knows he should tell Ford to get lost, but it’s hard to bluntly rebut a devout admirer.

Set primarily in 1892 Missouri, the film follows the two title characters through their relationship, culminating in the title event. James, his gang having been diminished by gunshots and prison sentences, recruits Ford and his older brother Charlie (Sam Rockwell) to rob another bank, as well as watch his back. Unbeknownst to him, Robert Ford had made a deal with the governor of Missouri (James Carville in an especially odd cameo) to gain his idol’s trust and take care of him. Although the deal doesn’t explicitly include James’ death, the possibility of taking him alive doesn’t ever come up.

When the time comes, James appear to submit knowingly to his death. Why, exactly, I’m sure will be debated by the film geeks, but I have a theory: James, who in this film subtly embraces his own legend, knew that one day his time would come. Being shot in the back of the head by a treacherous comrade is more glorious than a public hanging, and through it, his already substantial legend grows exponentially.

The irony in Ford’s infamy is that while he may have shot an unarmed James in the back of the head, the victim committed much worse crimes throughout his life. But that man’s misdeeds were dramatic and entertaining to many who didn’t lose life, loved ones, or property to it, while Ford’s killing just reminded everyone of how simple and unceremonious violence could be.

Directed by Andrew Dominik, “The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford” is beautifully photographed and quite literary, the events on screen feeling as if they must have been very accurately taken from the novel on which the film is based. It’s a pensive 160 minutes, and one can’t help but wonder if the filmmakers couldn’t’ have sliced out a few sequences that take us away from both lead characters. That time may have been better spent on the epilogue, which feels rushed in comparison to the previous two hours of buildup. Yet the film is very rewarding, the actors doing so well that even though everyone in the theater knows the result in advance, the anticipation of the bang becomes nearly unbearable.

Hero worship led to dangerous things for James and Ford. The latter wanted to worship at the former’s altar, but the truth of the man is different from the legend. James was a psychopath, and in this film everyone in his presence tenses up as if preparing for a bullet to the head. The film’s commentary about the dangers of fame are obvious, and a glance at a contemporary newspaper will often concur. Best of all, observe Ford’s own fate, where the price of his own ill-gotten fame give him a glimpse at what his idol might have felt.

4 out of 5

263

So I really enjoyed the Republican debate at UNI tonight. I'm so glad I went to the trouble of getting a ticket, because it was totally worth it to see all of those swell politicans who... oh wait, they cancelled the debate so that Romney or Tancredo could get his ass waxed. Because Kim-Moon hates it when an appointment is broken without a month's notice. Bastards.

262

I don't know how many of my fellow bloggers or film critics will read this, or have experienced this, but I'm gonna post about it anyway. Whenever I get hate mail, like the one that will be published this Tuesday's NI, the writer always says some variation of the following: "I hate this critic, I never agree with anything he says."

If someone's criteria of what makes a good critic is that the critic agrees with them the vast majority of the time, then that's fine. But the way these people always write it, they're saying that what makes a critic inherently bad is that he or she doesn't like what they (the hate mailer) likes. Proof that the education system in America is a near-total disaster, I'm amazed at how many people can't fathom that there may be good writers of all kinds out there that don't agree with them on almost anything. Not that the person they like despite themselves has to be me, but the message they send is usually quite clear. Oh well.

I make it a point to write every one of them back, and once in a while a decent dialogue will get going, but usually their either ignore me or just insult me even worse on the reply. Just no pleasing some, I reckon. Scott Cawelti usually advises me to simply ignore it, and he gets the kind of hate mail where the words are spelled with cut out magazine fragments. But admittedly, even if the letters come from complete morons or nutcase math freaks, it still stings a little to be told you blow at something you like to do.

In other news, I'm terribly ill for the second time this week. Hopefully the review that I had to write today of The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford won't be a total disaster as a result.

261 - Gone Baby Gone review

“Gone Baby Gone” begins by sweeping through a run-down part of Boston, giving us a view of the area’s lower-class almost as if from the window of a passing car. One seemingly universal truth about poor areas anywhere in the world is that the people all look tired, worn-out by the challenges and obstacles of life that they’ve been unable to surmount. It’s not hard to feel sympathy for many of the adults, but the children have it the worst, because their future options appear more limited, with the likelihood of falling into the cracks of society higher than a fair world would allow.

In this neighborhood, a little girl has disappeared from her bedroom. The police are on the case and fliers are plastered everywhere, but several days have passed with no sign of her. The girl’s aunt approaches Patrick Kenzie (Casey Affleck), a private detective who works with his girlfriend Angie (Michelle Monaghan), mostly to track deadbeat dads. Patrick cautions the aunt about his usual tasks, but she’s insistent.

Patrick and Angie dive right in. Helene (Amy Ryan), the girl’s mother, is a cokehead who might have been an okay stripper before age and drugs tore her looks apart. He meets Captain Jack Doyle (Morgan Freeman), who bitterly agrees to give Patrick access to the case’s lead investigators, Remy Bressant (Ed Harris) and Nick Poole (John Aston), two veteran detectives have the appearance people get when they’ve had a rotten job for a whole lifetime. The case takes them deep into world of dope dealers, murderous gang members, and institutional corruption of an unexpected kind.

“Gone Baby Gone” is based on a novel by Dennis Lehane, who also wrote the source material for 2003’s “Mystic River.” Like “Mystic River,” this is an excellent film, somber to the core and horrified at the abuses that befall children. It recognizes that these abuses aren’t limited to the physical; neglect and mental degradation will destroy more futures than molestation. Even the well-meaning adults commit abuse via bad deeds done in the name of doing what’s right for the child.

There’s much to rave over in this film, the major directorial debut of much-maligned actor Ben Affleck. The performances are fine all around, with standout work from Casey Afflect, burdened with a strong sense of right and wrong, and Ed Harris, whose moral compass was corrupted a long time ago. Many of the extras are straight off the Boston streets, and their decidedly un-movie appearances enhance the atmosphere, giving us a bleak and real environment rarely shown on the big screen.

As a mystery, it unfolds with reason and care, the solutions placed in front of us to see. Unlike many mysteries, where the characters come to conclusions the audience never could, Patrick solves problems and unveils conspiracies because he has a much greater amount of time than we to consider all aspects of the case. Ben Affleck directs it in such an understated fashion that when decisions are made and violence erupts, it’s all the more powerful.

But if there’s one thing the audience will take away from “Gone Baby Gone,” it’s how this thoughtful film doesn’t buckle or shy away in the face of difficult moral questions. To give them away would be cruel of me, but they appear throughout the film, and no solutions or “correct” answers are offered, just choices with serious consequences for the outcome. That’s life, and they have to live with it.

4.5 out of 5