Well here we are with a second edition of the John C. Reilly Factor — Thomas J’s latest character study. Find more like them here and here. Or just peruse the Features menu up top.
Last month we were talking about this and so now I’d like to switch out of that melodrama and move on to . . . well, I guess more melodrama. Melodrama upon the high seas. As always, spoilers ahoy!
John C. Reilly as Dale ‘Murph’ Murphy in Wolfgang Petersen’s The Perfect Storm
Role Type:Supporting
Genre: Adventure/drama
Character Profile:Good old ‘Murph’ is a fisherman with a strong work ethic, often spending long, long days on the open waters trying to bring home that “pay dirt.” He’s struggling to make ends meet, not unlike many a Gloucesterman, on the cusp of divorce while still trying to be around as much as possible for his son. Murph is headstrong and has a hard time adjusting when the crew of the Andrea Gail take on an extra hand, David ‘Sully’ Sullivan — a welder with a rather stand-offish personality and determination to do things his own way.
If you lose JCR, the film loses:firstly the tension between two of the Gail’s more interesting personalities — one brimming between Reilly’s Murph and William Fichtner’s Sully. These two men are at each other’s throats from the get-go and though the clashing doesn’t particularly boil down to much beyond your typical alpha-male antagonism, John C. Reilly makes his character so very believable. It wouldn’t be the same if another actor stepped into this predicament. Besides, the loss of the entire crew is made that much more painful once we’ve established Murph is very much a man trying to make good on his promises to his family back on shore. Reilly sells the tragedy with a soul-bruising sense of empathy for what the real life Murph might have felt in his last moments.
That’s what he said:“This is gonna be hard on my little boy. . .”
Rate the Performance (relative to his other work):
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Written by: Adam Cooper; Bill Collage; Jeffrey Caine; Steven Zaillian
Directed by: Ridley Scott
Often I feel that I am needlessly ambiguous with what I’m trying to say in past reviews, but here I have this concern I am going to be too overt. The great Ridley Scott — yes, the one of Gladiator fame — has clearly relied too much on star talent to help carry his Biblical ‘epic’ (and sorry to those who think the word is inextricably linked to prepubescent Bieber fandom) to the Promised Land. Top billed are terrible in their roles while a boring and unevenly paced script contributes to a disastrous outing for all involved.
GODS VS. KINGS
Somewhere in the dust and ruin of his attempt at resurrecting temples he once had so majestically created, there’s a lesson to be learned for Sir Ridley Scott. If there were one commandment I would issue immediately, as someone who has been eagerly anticipating this supposed return to form, it would be for him to refrain from treating his selected actors as gods and kings. Forget Christian Bale’s mixed South African and Welsch ancestry. Forget Joel Edgerton’s emo eye-liner — he at least looks better in it than Bale sounds like with whatever accent he’s trying to pull off here. And you can forget all about Cecil B. De Mille’s commitment to Charlton Heston (oh, swoon!) in the 1956 classic The Ten Commandments. Indeed, the only thing that shall be remembered over the course of a whopping two-and-a-half hours, is the pain of watching one of the premier filmmakers of our time climbing out of a dank, oppressive cave with a single message inscribed on a rock tablet:
“(I’ve) let my standards go!”
In the Gladiator director’s newest venture out into the sands of Egypt Bale takes on the role of Moses, a former Egyptian General banished by his legal, but not blood, brother Prince Ramses (Edgerton) into exile after it becomes evident what Moses’ true blood lineage is. Raised in a climate of political convenience rather than one of familial love, Moses conflicts with Ramses ideologically, emotionally and eventually physically. All signs point to Ramses’ deep-seated envy of his sort-of-brother. This is a relationship dynamic we’ve known for as long as we’ve been out of grade school as well as it being a classic example of the friend-turned-foe story. It’s also the strongest bargaining chip Mr. Scott has at keeping an audience on board here. And we agree; we are too curious as to how thing will play out between these versions.
While he appreciates the relationship between Moses and Ramses, he is much less appreciative of his peripheral vision. Rather than going the Jim Caviezel route by casting someone who at least looked the part, and through coating much of his cast in a thick smathering of tanning lotion (this is actually the story of how Moses goes to the beach and gets badly sunburned), Scott surprisingly approved of everything here without what one would naturally assume to be a pressing need to fire a casting director, or even someone in make-up and wardrobe. Not that these actors aren’t talented. And we can’t pretend that it’s an alien concept for a big studio and a big director to skirt past native actors in search of bigger box-office draws. But why does everyone have to look like the Beach Boys? The likes of Edgerton, Bale, Ben Mendelsohn (who plays the creepy Viceroy Hegep with gleeful abandon) and Sigourney Weaver are caked in comical cosmetics that distract more than they contribute, but this isn’t the major issue. Visually, at least these pretty peeps eventually blend in with the dulcet environs.
Frustratingly Exodus: Gods and Kings — I’ve never been one to read into film titles too deeply, but this particular subtitle does seem superfluous — is intent on featuring caricatures rather than characters. Bale is ridiculously over-the-top as he forces vigilante machismo into a character that has decidedly much less of that built into his DNA. Edgerton acts like the spoiled brat Pharaoh Ramses apparently was. After succeeding the Pharaoh Seti (John Turturro, also ridiculous-looking when bald), Ramses becomes something of a harbinger of doom, driving the Hebrew slaves to the brink of collapse through extremely hard labor and miserable working conditions. As if life wasn’t tough enough before. During Moses’ exile, he learns of these changing conditions back home in Memphis and despite having formed a family with the beautiful Zipporah (María Valverde) he vows to return and free over 600,000 Hebrews from his brother’s oppressive, bloodthirsty rule.
WE ARE NOT ENTERTAINED!
It’s not the big picture Mr. Scott misses. Though Exodus hardly inspires with its languid pacing — that’s actually a compliment, as it drags for a good 75 minutes out of a grand total of 150 — there is definitive movement in the saga and the enthusiasm for Moses’ finest hour begins to build in earnest when the plagues set in. But even then, it’s a dash of visual splendor that sits a little too long in waiting and appears somewhat randomly in gradually darkening skies. Rest assured, if those in attendance are awaiting spectacle, they will still get it. But it’s too little too late.
His placement of the plagues and the parting of the Red Sea — each element elegant in their CGI rendering — ought to be considered the equivalent of audiences sitting in for Gladiator and having minimum expectations of seeing Russell Crowe in leather jockeys. Yes he dons such a garment, but this doesn’t exactly complete the character. And it says nothing about the way Mr. Scott’s masterpiece captures ancient history in all its grim and bloody frankness; says little about the defiance of a single gladiator who goes up against the Roman empire — except that maybe our fearless leader has an eye for men in skivvies.
But this sadly is no laughing matter. It’s difficult trying to rectify the substantial decrease in quality between the film that came out at the turn of the millennium and the one we’ve just been handed on a not-so-silver platter. If you factor in how much Exodus seems to mime the story arc of Gladiator the coalition for reason becomes even weaker. Formulaically speaking, this is no different from the adventures of Maximus Decimus Meridius. A man has his pride and political status stripped from him following a particularly bitter (and yes, unfair) betrayal, then must strike out on his own into the great unknown before deciding to return balance to the universe. Crowe had at it first, and Crowe comes out on top on almost all counts. But if we were judging this based on who rides a gigantic tidal wave of water better, then the odds are more in Moses’ favor.
As an undertaking, Exodus is a mightily ambitious undertaking. It’s easy to dismiss the film as a redundant journey back in time to a place where religious conflict brimmed more heatedly than any of those scenes between Bruce and Rachel. (Or Miranda Tate — that part was actually better.) Maybe we really didn’t need it. Maybe I was just foolish in expecting great things here. Though it’s hard to not get excited when the likes of Christian Bale and Joel Edgerton (and throw in Sigourney Weaver for the hell of it) are involved, when there’s a director of Mr. Scott’s stature leading the charge.
Casting controversy aside, Exodus is simply a film with few excuses for becoming as flaccid a drama as it truly becomes. It’s mired in surprisingly subpar performances, drifting narrative pacing and an unenthusiastic, although granted, educational, tone. No one on screen ever feels inspired. And to say that about this particular cast is a move that ought to make one feel the need to exile themselves to. . . . well, somewhere else. For right now anyway, it looks like the opposite case is going to hold true.
Recommendation: If you were holding out hope that Exodus could survive the plague of criticism that has washed over it in the past week, let me drown that hope right now. It’s not a good movie. If the odd casting decisions don’t strike you (the argument being staged for racist casting is just plain nonsense by the way; the move to hire Bale and Edgerton in particular was one of financial matters, and this is clear) then the slow, awkward pacing and the sloppy dialogue surely will. I’m done talking about this movie. Two thousand words later.
Rated: PG-13
Running Time: 150 mins.
Quoted: “You sleep well because you are loved. I’ve never slept that well.”
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Somewhere along the way here, I swear Robert Redford was going to bump into the guys of the Andrea Gale and he’d have to hop aboard Clooney’s doomed ship in the middle of his perfect storm; then later when he comes within feet of a massive cargo ship, it looked like Captain Rich Phillips was possibly going to be the 70-something-year-old sailor’s savior.
Alas, neither actually turned out to be the case, and Redford — credited in this film simply as ‘Our Man’ — must continue to find a way to hold on, and simply wait. Wait to live. Wait to die. Wait for a resolution, that would never come. (Yes — yes that is indeed a third stranded-at-sea-themed movie reference. . . . .but what is it??)
All is Lost is a strange film. Neither a visionary achievement as I’ve seen it touted as, nor anywhere close to being boring either, this is a film trapped in Purgatory; destined forever to serve up heaping helpings of indifference to those who are seeking character development — who wouldn’t, in a movie about someone trying to survive the elements?
If there’s one element of this production that may need orienting, it’s that Redford does indeed turn in a performance to be reckoned with come the awards ceremony. Saddled with as few as perhaps five lines of dialogue throughout the course of an hour and forty-five minutes, his sailor-dude-guy is tasked with resorting to his most primitive of survival modes, a challenge Redford was apparently up for. Emoting with virtually just his facial expressions, the actor is likewise forced to turn in an economical performance, a feat that does pay off come time to sink or swim.
However, as good as Redford is at portraying Our Man as a supremely efficient, calm individual, even in the face of this kind of adversity, there’s absolutely no entry point for the audience as far as finding out who exactly he is as a human being is concerned. We will come to quickly understand how experienced of a sailor he is. But why is he out here? Where is he going. . or at least was trying to get to? If he passes away on the ocean, who will he be survived by? The drama surrounding Our Man is. . .e-hem. . .watered down by the fact that we will get no such resolution.
That’s incredibly frustrating, really, when considering the ride otherwise is quite compelling. In many ways, All is Lost provides an alternative route through the terror and isolation revealed in Alfonso Cuarón’s outer space thriller just a month or so ago. Whereas Gravity thrust us into the incoherent depths of a world beyond our atmosphere, All is Lost is intent on selling the same kind of experience safely inside of it. The oceans are some seriously large chunks of real estate, and God help you if ever you’re so lucky as to come crashing into a randomly floating cargo container in the middle of the night.
Such is the plight of Our Man, who immediately goes about fixing the ship’s damaged hull and rigging up a system to bail out the water from the cabin. After several unsuccessful attempts at sending out S.O.S. calls to the Coast Guard, he comes to the realization that all electronics have been conveniently rendered useless. Surely it can’t seem to get much worse than that, right? Unfortunately it does, and on the following evening a strong thunderstorm threatens to wipe him out completely. He manages to see through the night, but is forced to board his emergency raft after taking on enough water to sink the Virginia Jean.
The cost of not giving this man a character, a reason for being, is constantly exposed by the lack of any other flaws in the film. Such frustration is compounded by the film’s perfect pacing. There’s this obvious transitional point when Our Man abandons his yacht and enters the raft, yet most of the scenes that make up these two “halves” pass by so breezily that the ending to the film comes almost as a shock.
All is Lost can’t help but feel robbed of any meaning when the film’s sole cast member (credited or otherwise) has spent the entire time in anonymity. We gather his survival skills are sharp — most of us likely wouldn’t make it past day three under these circumstances. He makes it to number eight. Yet, if the grand take-away here is to show how truly limited our species is when it comes to habitat — clearly, we cannot survive out at sea — I feel like there are better films already reaching for this. I’m not sure this is a fair evaluation, but it’s what I have been able to surmise with such limited information.
Recommendation: Robert Redford fans are likely to be impressed (again), since he commands the screen for the entire time. But with the only other character on display being his boat, he doesn’t exactly have a lot of competition. See it for his ability to convey a good range of emotions in relative silence, see it for the scenery (the cinematography is gorgeous), but do not go to this movie searching for meaning. I’m quite sure there’s none to be had.
Rated: PG-13
Running Time: 105 mins.
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This hobby blog is dedicated to movie nerdom, nostalgia, and the occasional escape. In the late 90s, I worked at Blockbuster Video, where they let me take home two free movies a day. I caught up on the classics and reviewed theatrical releases for Denver 'burbs newspapers and magazines. When time is free between teaching high school music and being a dad, movies are standard. Comments and dialogue encouraged!
Recommendation: If you were holding out hope that Exodus could survive the plague of criticism that has washed over it in the past week, let me drown that hope right now. It’s not a good movie. If the odd casting decisions don’t strike you (the argument being staged for racist casting is just plain nonsense by the way; the move to hire Bale and Edgerton in particular was one of financial matters, and this is clear) then the slow, awkward pacing and the sloppy dialogue surely will. I’m done talking about this movie. Two thousand words later. 
Recommendation: Robert Redford fans are likely to be impressed (again), since he commands the screen for the entire time. But with the only other character on display being his boat, he doesn’t exactly have a lot of competition. See it for his ability to convey a good range of emotions in relative silence, see it for the scenery (the cinematography is gorgeous), but do not go to this movie searching for meaning. I’m quite sure there’s none to be had.
Thomas J 