writing | filmvetter

This is not a film review, but some events require a detour from standard operating procedure.

A close friend and fellow film buff sent me the following:

Robert Duvall’s very first film is hard to find and may not exist: a made for TV Playhouse 90, John Brown’s Raid, directed by Sidney Lumet starring James Mason as John Brown, filmed on location at Harper’s Ferry. In addition to Mason and Duvall, the movie had James Broderick and Ossie Davis. His second film and first feature was, of course, To Kill a Mockingbird. He made about 7 feature films in the 60s–mostly episodic TV. But those 7 features arguably set up the next decade of his career: Countdown, a failed film by Robert Altman, The Rain People, a failed film by Francis Ford Coppola, and then The Chase (Arthur Penn), True Grit and Bullitt (Peter Yates). Oh, yeah, he plays a gay biker and Richard Jaeckel’s lover in Nightmare in the Sun. So the 70s opened and he plays a lot of assholes: MASH, Network, Killer Elite, Great Northfield Minnesota Raid. Also a lot of fairly colorless people: I’m sorry, but Tom Hagen is a thankless role, and while he’s an interesting Doctor Watson, it’s not very showy. And a Good Nazi, kind of, in The Eagle Has Landed. Also a lot of movies we’ve forgotten about. But almost all of his movies share two characteristics: he’s getting much bigger parts and most are directed by or written by big names. So even though at the end of the 70s, the average person hadn’t heard of him, he’s got a lot of respect in the industry and criticis love his ass. Setting up The Great Santini, Apocalypse Now, True Confessions and Tender Mercies–and that’s a sequence of films that’s got few rivals, particularly given he’s starring in three of them. Now he’s kind of found his groove as a movie star–of this group, only True Confessions wasn’t Oscar nominated. Ironically, his 80s after that is a bit tame–probably taking some time off. And then the epic Lonesome Dove, where he creates Augustus, leading to his strongest decade not in movies (that’s the 70s by far) but in Robert Duvall Roles. He made 24 movies in the 70s, 12 in the 80s, and 23 in the 90s. He still worked up into his own 90s, getting another nomination and directing up into his 80s. From CNN, “…the family encourages those who wish to honor his memory to do so in a way that reflects the life he lived by watching a great film, telling a good story around a table with friends, or taking a drive in the countryside to appreciate the world’s beauty.” He was apparently a Republican, too. Long time buddies with Gene Hackman and Dustin Hoffman. I’m glad he had a better end than Hackman.

There is very little with which to disagree there, except for her misstep on Tom Hagen. Duvall’s turn as the “almost brother” is an understated, canny performance, pitch perfect to his co-stars, with quiet moments of real hurt. When Michael says, “You’re out, Tom,” Duvall shows piercing vulnerability, beseeching Vito with his eyes. When Michael attacks Tom for disloyalty, again, his bewilderment belies a greater fear (“Why do you hurt me, Michael? I’ve always been loyal to you”).

The scenes must be juxtaposed with Tom’s fights with Sonny, who also derided Tom, but with whom Tom was at ease, because for all his faults, Sonny was human, they were blood even if Sonny could cruelly suggests otherwise. And Sonny was dumber than Tom, a reality so patently obvious to Tom that his worth was never in doubt. They’d fight, Tom took it with a grain, and Sonny immediately apologized.

Michael, however, was inhuman and smarter.

The performance is masterful, like so much of what Duvall did.

Last thought. A Civil Action is an underrated legal thriller about a class action case brought against local polluters. John Travolta is the engine, a plaintiff’s lawyer fighting a massive, all-enveloping case and his own sense of inadequacy, and he is quite good. Duvall represents one of two corporate defendants, a wily, eccentric old line senior partner with a white shoe Boston firm. I’ve been around lawyers of all stripes my whole life. He is spot-on, brilliant, and inhabits the quirky-but-wise character entirely:

A straightforward procedural based on a true story, broke-down and ailing FBI agent Terry Husk (Jude Law, as unpretty as you’ll find him) arrives at his new desk in Idaho only to stumble upon the rise of The Order, an “action, not words” offshoot of The Aryan Nations in the early 1980s. The Order is led by the charismatic Bob Matthews (Nicholas Hoult), who guides it from counterfeiting to bank robbery to assassination to planned insurrection. As Matthews rises, Husk and the Feds close in, amidst a backdrop of the majestic and haunting Pacific Northwest.

There is nothing new here save for restraint, but restraint is in awful short supply these days. The pace is taut, the acting largely superb, and the photography memorable. In the hands of a lesser director or writer, the temptation to weigh in on the philosophy of The Order, and to jam it into whatever current bugaboo is in fashion, would be too much to resist. Here, writer Zach Baylin shows you what The Order believes and how, attenuated or not, those beliefs are connected to their criminal endeavors. To Law, who we learn has worked undercover on cases from The Klan to The Mob, the “the” doesn’t really matter. They’re all the same. And that keeps the story from stalling on the anticipated wordy handwringing that you expect.

As one article observed, “Ultimately, the hope of slipping an unsparing portrayal of domestic extremism—produced outside of the Hollywood studio system—into the December award season is to reintroduce a discussion of radicalization to American society. ‘If you don’t learn from history, you’re doomed to repeat it—how a guy that, in the way Nick depicted him, could live down anybody’s street,’ says Haas. ‘There are lots of people right now who are hurting and struggling and looking for answers.'”

Thankfully, this kind of easy, didactic tripe is little found in the actual picture.

We also aren’t loaded down with Law’s past. There is a medical issue and familial distress, but Baylin explains just enough to give you a sense as to their effect on Law’s nature and psyche. Husk is not out here for redemption or revenge. Even his obligatory “Let me tell you about this one horrible thing” speech is muted, his explanation almost perfunctory. Much like the father of one of the young men who joined The Order, a man who resignedly tells Husk, basically, “you do the best you can with your kids, but it’s a crapshoot.”

The film could have used a little more exposition (particularly with the doomed local deputy, Tye Sheridan), the tough gal FBI supervisor (Jurnee Smollett) is hackneyed even with the gender change, and maybe there should have been one more turn before reaching resolution.

But otherwise, very solid, entertaining crime flick. Reminded me of the equally impressive Under The Banner of Heaven.

On Hulu.

—filmvetter

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The Order – 4.25 stars