Blue Ruin (2013)

Blue Ruin (2013)

Broken and homeless, Dwight Evans (Macon Blair) spends his life eating out of bins and sleeping in his car. Upon discovering that Wade Cleland, the man responsible for his parents murder is to be released from jail, he sets out for revenge, killing Wade and setting into motion a series of events that can only lead to one logical conclusion.

Unflinching and achingly brutal, Blue Ruin is an incredibly sparse piece of film making, almost silent for much of the runtime, save for the background noises and an impressively crisp ambient score. Information on Dwights predicament and motives are slowly drip fed, until we realise the seriousness of his intentions, and furthermore, the pain that will surely be coming his way.

The revenge thriller is a well worn genre, and for the most part Blue Ruin sticks to a blue print that works, while injecting an indie freshness by focussing on the human story, the morality of such a venture and the effect it has on not just the killer, but his loved ones and even those he is seeking to destroy.

We follow Dwight through literally every scene, seeing everything through his eyes, feeling everything he feels. Macon Blair is mesmerising in the role, giving Dwight a single minded drive that in the hands of another actor could so easily be play as hammy and overly emotional. Turning from beach living Stig of the Dump to mild-looking yet brutal killer in the blink of an eye, he manages to makes us empathise with him, despite every questionable deed.

Jeremy Saulnier directs and photographs the film with an efficiency and naturalism that one wouldn't naturally associate with such a brutal thriller, providing calm and beautiful scenic imagery to directly counter the genuinely nervy tension and agonising violence that punctuates the rest of the action. Much like the lead character, the film itself calmly and methodically works its way to the logical conclusion, dragging us by the hand. It's compelling yet also jarringly distancing.

The supporting cast are mostly fine in their roles playing second fiddle to Blair, particularly Amy Hargreaves as his sister, lending the film a humanity and warmth where otherwise it could have come off as overly mechanical and soulless. Devin Ratray also provides some humour as a childhood friend with an unexpected armoury, although it's arguable that his scenes veer too sharply away into humour and detract from the naturalism cultivated so carefully elsewhere in the film.

So too, the denouement lacks the punch it so sorely deserves given how sharp the preceding journey was, with the methodical narrative collapsing and losing momentum as Dwight holes himself up for the final showdown.

Nonetheless, Blue Ruin is an immensely impressive thriller for those with the nerve to stick it out, and can certainly show its bigger budget siblings a thing or two about how to craft a engrossing narrative based around one man, a car and his desire for revenge.

* * * *

~This review was originally written for York Nouse~

Review: Locke (2014)

Locke (2014)

A construction worker leaves his job as a site foreman on a skyscraper build and drives to London. He leaves behind everything he holds dear, the reasons for which unfold over the course of several phone calls with friends, family and colleagues.

Locke is a daring conceit, a story propelled forward purely by the power of the spoken word, contained within in a tight theatrical box and filmed in almost real time, the film doesn't immediately lend itself to cinema. Yet, what initially seems like it could be a boring, repetitive premise lends itself a thoughtful, ruminative character study, beautifully shot and deeply affecting throughout.

Kudos, particularly must go to director Steven Knight and cinematographer Haris Zambarloukos, who strive to inject the film with dynamism one wouldn't immediately expect from such limiting set-up. We are forced to focus on Locke's words, the neat hypnotic camera work dousing the screen in a myriad of colours, the hazy blur of the passing world goes almost unnoticed, enabling us to visualise the drama unfolding off screen. It's abstract yet strangely beautiful.

And indeed, for it's limited premise, Locke never feels claustrophobic, Tom Hardy draws you in with his sharp calm performance, inviting empathy and even sympathy in spite of his actions. It's a brave performance for an actor mostly known for such loud, brash characters, and yet it works. So too, the voices on the other end of the line are pitched perfectly. Heard but never seen, each one carefully drip feeding the requisite drama, humour and tension with limited means.

The script, too is well crafted, focussing on the minutiae, creating a kitchen sink drama that delivers big (admittedly obvious) metaphors about collapsing buildings and cracks in concrete. For the most part it's very successful, although some of the imaginary chats with his deceased father are jarring and don't quite ring true and distract from the main thrust of the narrative. It also may have benefited from some quieter moments, with Hardy and his co-stars talking fairly constantly for the entire 90 minutes. For a film about one man alone in a car, there isn't much breathing space, pauses for thought are few and far between. And although this serves to ramp up the tension, especially towards the end, it also makes the film seem overly busy and doesn't afford the viewer a great deal of time for things to sink in.

Nonetheless, the film is held together by a towering performance from Tom Hardy as a man who can barely keep himself together, with subtle physical tics and assured vocal delivery demonstrating a fragile psyche in mid breakdown. Together with a great supporting cast and hypnotic photography, Locke comes together as a very compelling little film indeed.

* * * *

~This review was originally written for York Nouse~