Dead Man's Wire

Director: Gus Van Sant
Starring: Bill Skarsgård, Dacre Montgomery, Cary Elwes, Myha'la, Colman Domingo, Al Pacino, John Robinson, Kelly Lynch, Todd Gable
Running Time: 106 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)   

During Gus Van Sant's biographical crime thriller Dead Man's Wire, a voiceover declares that holding onto anger is the equivalent of drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. But by film's end, we're left wondering whether that's true or the real life antagonist actually did get the satisfaction he sought. Eerily prescient, it focuses on this man with a grudge and the extreme measures he takes against those he thinks wronged him. And though his intended victim isn't around for the consequences, he finds a suitable replacement, leading to an unusual standoff that sends the cops and media into a frenzy. 

Initially, the police want this abductor to feel as if he's receiving the attention he so desperately craves, hoping he'll drop his guard long enough for them to go in for the kill. But what happens when the public chooses to view him as a sympathetic figure screwed over by a soulless corporation? With a compelling tale like his, it's no surprise many can relate, enabling them to somehow see past whatever violence he's capable of, as scary as that seems.    

On Tuesday, February 8th, 1977 in Indianapolis, a high strung, mustachioed man named Tony Kiritsis (Bill Skarsgård) arrives at the Meridian Mortage Company building for an appointment with CEO M.L. Hall (Al Pacino). Entering with a sling on his arm and a long box, an agitated Tony makes a scene when informed M.L. is vacationing in Florida. His son and company President Richard (Dacre Montgomery) intervenes, agreeing to meet with him. But once inside the office, Tony removes a shotgun from the box, wiring it to Richard's neck and rigging it to fire should he attempt to escape. 

Believing the Halls cheated him out of money on a land development deal, Tony calls this abduction into the police himself, hoping to expose the Halls. With a wire wrapped around his neck, Richard's taken out of the building and onto the street by Tony, attracting the attention of Detective Michael Grable (Cary Elwes) and TV news reporter Linda Page (Myha'la), who's looking to raise her profile with a big story. As the FBI closes in and Richard's life hangs in the balance, Tony uses local radio DJ Fred Temple (Colman Domingo) to send his message to the masses. But with time running out, he wants money and an apology, or the shotgun goes off.

Aside from Skarsgård's genuinely unsettling performance and a remarkable sense of time and place, the film's greatest asset is how quickly it gets down to business, letting the smaller details pour out as this situation escalates. From the start, there's something off enough about this guy that the pressure's on to give him what he wants, or at least make him think he's getting it. It's also intriguing to watch these opening office scenes with the knowledge that Tony would have been immediately tackled at the front door if this occurred today. But it's the 70's, establishing him as just another irritated client on a Tuesday. 

Viewed through a pre-9/11 lens with no security cams, it's easier to see how Tony pulls this off, his unusual shotgun contraption throwing off authorities as they proceed with heightened caution. All of this gives Tony time to lay out his terms and milk the public's attention while a terrified Richard suffers through the ordeal, his life potentially ending with one sudden move in the wrong direction. 

Montgomery's performance conveys a thinly layered sense of guilt that Richard and his father really screwed this man out of his cash since that's what this company does. Pacino's big scene as M.L. confirms just how little respect he has for his own son, who's essentially a subservient hatchet man. Even with Richard's life on the line, the elder Hall proves too stubborn and entitled to give an inch, frustrating both Tony and the FBI. Pacino's subtle here, never hamming it up as his character comes across completely unaffected and incapable of relinquishing control. 

While Van Sant gets a little heavy handed as he flashes back and forth between TV broadcast recreations and the actual action, tension remains at a fever pitch throughout, delivered in a style intentionally reminiscent of Pacino's Serpico and Dog Day Afternoon. A menacing, unhinged Skarsgård exudes false bravado as the walls close in on Tony, who still plans to walk away scot-free. Domingo also impresses with a nuanced, charismatic turn as the radio DJ caught in the middle of these volatile negotiations. As the only person Tony trusts, if not flat-out idolizes, you'd think using him as a liaison would give the FBI an advantage. And for a while, it does.  

Logic dictates Tony can't get away with this, but his belief he will is what makes him dangerous. The closing title cards revealing the fates of those involved are legitimately surprising, as is the real news footage that appears over the credits. But by depicting the genesis of similar events we'll see play out over the following decades, Dead Man's Wire shows just how easily criminals become celebrities. And while they continue to bask in that adulation and exposure, it still still says as much about us as them.