Mystic River

Released:  October 15^th, 2003

Rated:  R

Distributor:  Warner Bros.

Starring:  Sean Penn, Tim Robbins, Kevin Bacon, Laurence Fishburne, Marcia Gay Harden, Laura Linney

Directed by:  Clint Eastwood

Written by:  Brian Helgeland

Personal Bias Alert:  likes Clint Eastwood movies, likes slow, moody dramas

8.5 of 10

            Mystic River is one of those films that’s about many things, none of which are hidden but are too painful to look directly at.  Instead, it flits about from the main storyline to the subtext to the characters, orbiting around the same bleak idea that does more to make the film dark than its muted lighting or pedantic pace.  A quick movie it is not, nor does it want to be one.  It wants you to feel the weight of every event, to understand the context, and to know the ramifications without ever having to see them.  This fictional slice of Boston is as well-built as George R.R. Martin’s Westeros or Tolkien’s Middle Earth, and the drama that plays out there is as grand in scale as either of those epics.

            Sean Penn anchors the film as Jimmy Markum, a former bad boy who’s settled into a life of respected domesticity.  When his daughter turns up murdered, the neighborhood knows what will be unearthed in Jimmy, and no one dares to stand in his way.  Tim Robbins and Kevin Bacon also star as Jimmy’s childhood friends, Dave and Sean.  The three boys were together when Dave was picked up by two men who abused him for several days, an incident that none of them were ever able to shake.

            A large portion of the film follows Sean, who’s now a cop, as he and his partner investigate the murder of Jimmy’s daughter.  The whodunit forms the backbone of the story from a structural standpoint, but it’s the least interesting portion of the film, at times drawing too much focus away from the three men.  Every story needs a structure, but the best come up with something that ties in firmly with the themes that run through it.  Mystic River is a bit too loose for such a neat bow, and at times the procedural aspect seems just as rote as the cop shows you find playing endlessly on cable television.

            What’s truly captivating is Jimmy and Dave, who’ve remained friendly over the years and are brought closer by the murder.  They both bear scars, to differing extents, from the incident when they were boys, but neither are healed enough to talk about it.  Penn plays Jimmy like a loaded gun that’s half-cocked, daring people not to take him seriously but reticent to go off.  Dave is an unraveling mess, with Robbins portraying his fear and vulnerability without ever making him seem weak.  You figure out pretty quickly where their relationship is heading, and the tragedy of that ending isn’t lost on either character.  Both Penn and Robbins won well-deserved Oscars for their performances, and it’s hard to pinpoint a time when either men were better throughout their remarkable careers.

            The whole enterprise is headed by director Clint Eastwood, whose films often harken back to an older style of cinema where the story is allowed to breathe and the film is wrapped up with a cumulative, downbeat scene.  His stylistic tools are all here, including his beautiful use of shadow, and as elegant as the film looks, it never escapes the feeling that something is missing.  This is perhaps a product of hindsight, as his nearly flawless and tonally similar film Million Dollar Baby came out only one year after Mystic River.  The similarities between the two films make them feel like a pair, with Mystic River as the electrifying build to Million Dollar Baby’s crescendo.  It seems that Clint learned much from Mystic River’s small missteps, and if its place will forever be in the shadow of Million Dollar Baby, well, that’s a pretty excellent shadow to be in.

Other Notes:

Ø  This is my favorite Sean Penn performance.

Ø  Why does everyone think Tim Robbins killed someone?

Ø  Are the three guys really supposed to be in their mid-30s?  Because they all look mid-to-late 40s.

The Savages (2007)

The death of Philip Seymour Hoffman hit me in a weird way.  I can’t say I was devastated or sad, but I was stunned.  Most of all, I felt a sense of loss.  I did have one very clear thought:  I’m not going to get any more of his work.  It’s a selfish thought, but as a movie lover Hoffman was inevitably on my radar.  You could always rely on him to be interesting, to bring something extra to every one of his roles.  The fact that he also chose to be a variety of movies, from blockbusters to indies, was an added bonus.  At any given time, there’s only a handful of actors/actresses who work at the level that Philip Seymour Hoffman did, and we’re lucky to have all of them.  Many people have said this since his death, most much more articulately than I can.  As my own little tribute, here is a review of one my favorite movies that he stared in.

The Savages

9 of 10

Personal Bias Alert:  dramedies are my favorite genre, I saw this one year after my grandfather passed away from Alzheimer’s

            The best films reach inside us, identify some part of ourselves that’s rarely seen, and assures us that other people have it too.  It evokes solidarity, which can heal us more than we realize.  Roger Ebert once said “The purpose of civilization and growth is to be able to reach out and empathize a little bit with other people.  And for me, the movies are like a machine that generates empathy.”  I don’t think all films do that, but the best, the most lasting, certainly do.  “The Savages” evokes solidarity and empathy with the best of them.

            Siblings Wendy (Laura Linney) and Jon (Philip Seymour Hoffman) are forced to work together to care for their father, whose mental health is deteriorating due to dementia.  The family was never close; their mom wasn’t around, and it’s implied that their father mistreated them as kids.  As adults, neither child speaks to him.  Wendy and Jon don’t have much to do with each other either.  They live in different cities and generally seem to leave each other alone.  These family dynamic have deeply affected both siblings, but they still try to do the decent thing by taking care of their ailing father.

The relationship dynamics and the situations that are explored in this film are difficult, but writer/director Tamara Jenkins doesn’t shy away from the humor either.  The film is intensely interested in the small oddities of life.  Everyday things we often overlook become humorous when seen from the outside, like a character using a grabber to reach a box of cereal, which is impossible to do gracefully.  The music emphasizes the humor from the beginning.  It bounces along, prepping us for these small moments and cutting into scenes that threaten to drag the story into melodrama.  Even when the middle section starts to drag on a bit too long, it still generates some big laughs.

            The movie centers around Wendy and Jon’s relationship, and Linney and Hoffman are excellent at showing both the closeness and distance that can exists between siblings.  These can be tenuous bonds, especially for people who aren’t good at forming intimate relationships.  There’s a lot of discomfort between them, but it’s also clear that they have been the most consistent presence in each other’s lives.  Pay attention to how closely Linney and Hoffman walk next to each other down hallways.  You don’t do that with just anyone.  The only other character with significant screen time is their father, played unsentimentally by Philip Bosco.  He may be a shell of his former self, but that shell is still a jerk.

            The title of the film is presented over a montage of picturesque scenes of a retirement community.  This contrasts the first scene, which shows the deterioration of the elderly couple inside one of the homes.  The film revolves around the way we hide the problems in our lives, being the deterioration of the elderly, relationship problems, or simply the struggle to achieve our dreams.  We hide them away, sweep them under a fancy rug so that the only thing people can see is a beautiful cover.  It’s a necessary thing to do so we can get on with our lives, but when the rug gets kicked away, it’s nice to know that other people feel as awkward and unsure about it as we do.

Other Notes:

Ø    There’s a scene where Hoffman’s character yells about the theme of hiding away our problems.  I often find myself wanting to yell lines from that speech.

Ø    As someone who has watched a family member slip away into Alzheimer’s/dementia, this film has many well-observed moments.  There’s a catharsis in knowing that other people noticed them too.

Ø    “You stole painkillers from a dead woman?”