The Place Beyond The Pines

Director: Derek Cianfrance
Starring: Ryan Gosling, Bradley Cooper, Eva Mendes, Ray Liotta, Ben Mendelsohn, Rose Byrne, Dane DeHaan, Emory Cohen, Mahershala Ali, Bruce Greenwood, Harris Yulin
Running Time: 140 min.
Rating: R  

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

                             **Spoiler Warning: This Review Reveals Major Plot Points**  

Almost halfway through The Place Beyond the Pines a title card appears on the screen that reads: 15 YEARS LATER. It's certainly not the first instance of a massive time jump during a film, but what makes this different is the anticipation level. I can't recall a time where I ever wanted to know more about the events that would follow that title screen, as my heart was practically pounding out of my chest. What director and co-writer Derek Cianfrance accomplishes in his sophomore feature is what most filmmakers aspire to get right. Unlike anything released in the past year, it's wildly ambitious and uncompromising, spinning a multi-generational epic that seems destined for cult classic status, if not greater. For almost two and a half hours it remains tight, focused, and unfussy even as tells three intrinsically connected stories that somehow isn't based on a published novel or true crime story, despite feeling so every step of the way.

I've gone back and forth on whether to reveal the big plot point at the movie's crux and determined it's necessary in fully explaining the film's tragic pull. If you don't want to know, it's best you STOP READING NOW and return after you've seen it. While the development is undeniably a shocker, the plot development cuts deeper far than that, exceeding a simple "twist.". Killing the protagonist off halfway through the picture is brave, and while it's been successfully accomplished before, it's impossible to name an instance involving not only this huge a star, but the actor being sold as the face of the picture. Of course, that creative decision alone isn't necessarily worthy of praise. There has to be something to it and it must be a narrative necessity.

Here, the main character perishes because his reckless lifestyle and behavior was bound to eventually lead him there. And also because he has to. This is a film that understands consequences and how decisions and actions reverberate beyond those who are immediately affected to sometimes cross over generations. In this case, from fathers to sons. It's interested in the consequences of death and what that means to those left to pick up the pieces. So, yes, the protagonist is killed off an hour in, but for the remaining time it never once feels like he's gone. It's only through death that the character ends up pushing the story into a far larger context that wouldn't otherwise be possible.

Ryan Gosling is motorcycle stunt rider Luke Glanton, who travels the country performing in circuses without ever really laying down roots anywhere. His latest stop is Schnechtady, New York, where he reconnects with single mother Romina (Eva Mendes), a waitress worn out and beaten down by life. They previously had a fling and now he's discovered her baby boy, Jason, is his. Despite her moving on with boyfriend Kofi (Mahershala Ali), Luke's determined to stick around town to do the right thing and help provide for his son. He takes a job with local auto repair shop owner Robin (Ben Mendolsohn) but his minimum wage salary isn't cutting it, leading the two to pair up and successfully rob some banks in the area.

It isn't long before Luke's worst tendencies grab hold, with his volatile temper threatening to keep him  from his son and his daredevil desire to hit more banks increasing. Robin warns him, "If you ride like thunder, you're gonna crash like lightning." He ends up being right, as Luke's recklessness sets him on a collision course with Officer Avery Cross (Bradley Cooper), creating a situation where only one can escape alive.

The opening hour just might contain the best work Gosling's ever done, which is scary when you consider the ground that covers within the past few years and the fact it's actually a SUPPORTING performance. That it can be said with absolute confidence that the character he creates is as instantly iconic as his unnamed getaway driver in Drive is no small praise, especially considering the surface similarities between the two. We know we're in for something special from the film's sensational opening sequence, as the camera follows Luke from behind into the carnival arena like a cage fighter entering the octagon. He puts on his signature ripped Metallica shirt, which, as James Franco pointed out, already seems like Gosling's new scorpion jacket. And I completely agree with Franco that the character ascends to and owns rebel status within minutes of appearing, before even speaking a word of dialogue.

Luke's an adrenaline junkie who can't control his lapses of slow, simmering rage, but he's also trying to do the right thing and be there for his son in a way he claims his father wasn't for him. It's a sadly prophetic desire, as the harder he tries to do the right thing, the deeper a hole he digs for himself doing wrong. He's doomed and doesn't even know it, pushing for reconciliation with Romina that can't possibly happen regardless of whether a child is in the equation or not. And the more it can't happen, the more he pushes. Boundaries don't exist for Luke, on a bike or in life.

His boss Robin makes the mistake of dangling the carrot of criminality in front of the last type of personality who can handle it. Ben Mendelsohn specializes in playing low-life creeps. At first glance it seems as if Robin is exactly that, but he's not. I love that Mendelsohn plays him as essentially a good guy who went down the wrong path and now just seems bored to tears. He comes across as more of a benevolent mentor and friend than corrupting influence, even if a strong argument can still be made for the latter. When he realizes the monster he's awakened in Luke, he lazily tries to stop it but can't even really muster enough energy to do that. It's too late anyway. There could be a whole other movie about just Robin and I wouldn't complain, but the performance deems it unnecessary, giving us everything we need about his character while withholding what we don't.

When these two are flying high together, so is the film, as the entire opening hour is an addictive rush, filled with images, quotable lines and events destined to burn into my consciousness with Mike Patton's mesmerizing score as the soundtrack. Cianfrance really engulfs the viewer and while this is unquestionably a heightened depiction of Schenectady, accentuating both the city's positive and negative attributes, it's far from an inaccurate one considering it was actually filmed on location. From the few who have seen this, the biggest criticism has been that it suffers after Gosling exits, with the last two thirds of the picture paling in comparison to the first. But I'd argue Luke Glanton's legend only grows after his departure, infusing the rest of the story a larger scope and even greater momentum as everyone is left to pick up the pieces of the damage he's left.

The Bradley Cooper section of the saga is every bit as gripping, while still continuing and finishing what was started. While Officer Avery Cross gets his man and is justifiably hailed by the media as a hero for taking out Luke, it's not that simple. Besides being treated like garbage by his superior and fellow officers, his career's essentially over due to the shootout. That his wife Jennifer (Rose Byrne) and father Al (Harris Yulin) never wanted him to be a cop in the first place is only salt in the wound. But Avery's hardest on himself, wracked with guilt over the fact that he killed a boy's father, emotionally paralyzing him to the point that he can't even look at his own baby boy.

Anyone still doubting last year's discovery of Cooper as a major acting talent or writing it off as just lucking into the right part, should take a look at what he does here, with his most complicated role yet. What's so pitiful about Avery is that, despite the mildly controversial details involving the shooting, he really is a hero who was forced to take the action he did. Cooper plays him at first as kind of a dim bulb, until we slowly realize, with his back against the wall, that he's actually very smart and cunning. He's forced to
be.

Ray Liotta has played a lot of corrupt scumbags in his career but his Peter Deluca just might take the cake. It's a compliment to him that it's hard to think of a more recent movie character I've hated more. I hated the condescending way he talked to Avery. I hated the way he talked to Avery's wife even more. I hated his greediness. Every time this guy speaks it's infuriating, which is exactly what a great villain who gets under your skin should do. Cianfrance takes the well worn plot mechanism of police corruption and makes it fresh and gripping, raising it to the level of Greek tragedy in terms of how it affects all involved, especially those on the periphery.

That Gosling and Cooper never share a scene together and yet the film somehow still feels like their two and a half hour grudge match is a testament speaks not only to their performances, but the rich characterization provided by the script. There's this faint undercurrent running throughout that if Luke and Avery hadn't been on opposite sides of the law then they could have possibly gotten along under different circumstances. That hunch is confirmed in the third act, culminating in a final showdown that can only occur through their sons. And both are very much their father's sons and a product of those events 15 years earlier.

Try as his mother might to keep it from him, you could see how a teen Jason (Dane DeHaan) would want to eventually learn what he could about his biological father. And you could also see how when he finds out about his dad's infamous "motobike bandit," past, that he'd find it really cool and want to know more. At an age where nothing makes sense and there's very little sense of identity, that's a big thing. And it makes sense that path would have to cross with Avery's son, AJ (Emory Cohen). It's not a contrivance. Just a tightly constructed story having its last screw turned. And what a final act it is. It's here where the highly ambitious three-act structure starts to make a lot more sense and all the cards fall into place

Thanks to DeHaan and Cohen's powerfully believable turns there's never any doubt they're the sons of these men despite the lack of any noticeable physical resemblance.DeHaan plays Jason as a sad, quite loner with a short temper while Cohen's AJ has a huge chip on his shoulder, appearing at first to be every bit the thug you'd expect given the years of neglect from his dad. Like their fathers, they're much more alike than different, as both actors transcend those one line descriptions to deliver something deeper and more meaningful. They're also headed for a collision course, finishing the business their dads started, whether they know it or not.

That storytelling this ambitious and expansive could be accomplished on a relatively small budget isn't all that surprising when you consider the ingenuity of the director behind it. Cianfrance's previous collaboration with Gosling, Blue Valentine, stands as one of the few recent films that's grown substantially in stature for me since I first viewed it.  It's a bit more free flowing and messier than this, but contains the same general thematic framework of damaged people as products of unstable families. He just understands what makes his characters tick and knows how to present it onscreen in the most insightful, realistic way possible.

Repeat viewings could easily present the already gripping first hour in a new light knowing what eventually follows. Much like what Affleck did with Boston, Cianfrance turns Schenectady into his personal wasteland of corruption and immorality, where the setting informs the film as much as its characters. If merely the thought of recasting the roles didn't seem to border on sacrilege, there's enough depth and richness here to sustain a long-running television series, with writing and directing that can actually match what we've been seeing now in that medium. With as much ground as this covers, it still even feels like there's more. The Place Beyond The Pines is an epic crime drama that isn't about crime, reminding us that the best ones rarely are.         

Chronicle

Director: Josh Trank
Starring: Dane DeHaan, Michael B. Jordan, Alex Russell, Michael Kelly, Ashley Hinshaw, Anna Wood, Bo Peterson
Running Time: 83 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Coming out of nowhere, Chronicle uses its high-concept premise as a playground to push past its genre boundaries to become something entirely original and exciting. It's such a surprise and so cleverly conceived that it's perplexing audiences didn't come out to see it in droves, despite it doing fairly well at the box office. Why they didn't probably has something to do with its lack of marketing and the fact it combines two heavily played out genres: superhero and found footage films. I hesitate even mentioning that because it feels more like a John Hughes movie in how it crafts an intelligent, mature story about teenagers that can be appreciated by all ages. A title card reading "Presented By Steven Spielberg" wouldn't look out of place if this were the 80's. After watching is it plainly clear what "bigger" movies like Super 8 and Hancock were trying to do, but couldn't fully accomplish. Here, the camera really is a character and through it we're taken on a wild ride that would be tough to replicate using just any other technique. And in doing so, first-time director Josh Trank and screenwriter Max Landis should be congratulated for submitting one of the top films of the half-year and perfectly weaving all its elements with an emotional, Columbine-style allegory. It dares to ask what a modern day Holden Caufield would be like if he suddenly possessed superpowers. As you might have guessed, the answer isn't pretty.  

Seattle high school senior Andrew Detmer (Dane DeHaan) has a mother (Bo Petersen) dying of cancer and a drunk father (Michael Kelly) who's verbally and physically abusive. A social outcast at school who's constantly bullied by his peers and somewhat ignored by his own cousin Matt (Alex Russell), Andrew's only friend seems to be a handheld camcorder, which he starts carrying around to chronicle his life. When Matt drags him to a rave in hopes of helping him meet people they encounter popular student Steve Montgomery (Michael B. Jordan) who persuades them to record a strange occurrence in the woods. They enter a giant, mysterious hole in the ground emitting a loud noise and containing a giant, glowing crystalline object. Fast forward a couple of weeks later and they possess a wide array of telekinetic powers that begin to escalate, becoming more refined as they experiment in their backyards and beyond. Pretty soon they're using the powers in public for practical jokes and seemingly harmless mayhem, but with no established rules for its use, Andrew's darker side comes out, threatening their friendship and everyone's lives.

The scenes where they first discover their powers are about as entertaining and funny as could be hoped for in a superhero movie, if only this were just any superhero movie. Testing out their telekinesis on unsuspecting customers in a supermarket is hilarious not only because of their actions, but because the sequences perfectly capture the kind of joy and excitement you'd expect high seniors to have if they possessed such abilities. Not often is the word "realism" thrown around when discussing movies in this genre, but it's applicable here because Landis' screenplay is so dedicated to playing by the rules of the situation it creates and letting us care about them. We've seen plenty of found footage films through the years with many recently using the camera as a distracting gimmick, but here's an instance where its presence seems to serve a narrative function.  That's especially evident when the three friends discover their ability to fly, resulting in a scene that's breathtaking in scope. It feels like we're up there with them, sharing in the revelation. As the film wears on and the action picks up, Trank's direction is so clever in how he still manages to incorporate the single camera perspective, whether he's switching out the characters who appear to be doing the filming, shifting to a security camera or, in many cases, having them appear to record the action from their state of levitation. In a good move, it seems like this was shot at like a higher quality than we're used to getting with these types of movies, with camera work that's sharper and not as nauseatingly shaky as you'd expect.

With these thrilling elements taking hold, it was only matter of time before things start to go dark, with the angry, tormented Andrew suddenly gaining popularity he can't seem to process and doubting the loyalty of the his only two friends. Only then, does it come into full view what this is really about, and how it used a superhero origin story as vehicle to get there. It's impossible to consider it all working as well without the three leads, who share a chemistry together onscreen so authentic that when their friendship begins to dissolve it really does seem tragic. Much of that is due to Dane DeHaan's frightening, but sympathetic portrayal, which is sure to be looked back on in a few years as marking the arrival of a major talent.

Resembling a younger, geekier looking Leonardo DiCaprio, DeHaan captures the burden of every outcast adolescent who thought they'd never survive high school. When Andrew snaps, his eyes go dead and it's impossible no to think of stories and descriptions of loner teens we hear about on the news. As Sam, former Fright Night Lights' star  Michael B. Jordan brings intelligence and dimension to Steve, making him more than just your stereotypical popular jock and demonstrating all of the charisma he displayed on TV has been translated full force to the big screen. The final piece of the equation is Alex Russell, whose performance is Matt is interesting in how he suggests the possibility of a whole backstory to the character we don't get to see, as he struggles to come to grips with where he fits in. It's most obvious in his relationship with would-be girlfriend Casey (a delightful Ashley Hinshaw), who's video blog provides the film an opportunity to add yet another camera to the mix. As far as romantic sub-plots go, this couldn't have been handled any better or with more subtlety.

Working on a relatively meager sized budget, Trank crafts a jaw-dropping final finale in downtown Seattle that looks and feels positively epic in scope, putting most big budget action blockbusters to shame. It also helps that we actually care about those involved in it and the result. Less a movie watching experience than an amusement park ride, the handheld camera replicates how insane it would be to see something like this happening on the streets. I've gone back and forth on how the movie likely would have played without this found footage technique, or whether it was completely necessary to tell the story, but the bottom line is it works and that's all that counts. It also trusts the intelligence of its audience to figure things out and fill in the blanks on details, since at just under an hour and a half, not a minute of screen time is squandered. Supposedly there's talk of a sequel, but that seems pointless, especially given how concrete an ending this has. The closing scene is especially perfect. Chronicle does a better job capturing high school than most dramas and documentaries do, and more traditional superhero movies released this year could have a tough time following it.