From the onset of its initial music and the yesteryear typeface of its opening credits, "Shady White" aesthetically evokes the film and television of 1970's Middle America, yet keeps its actual storytelling rooted in modern times. This is a rural American strong-arm tale; a knowingly campy and homespun indie crime jaunt featuring a Nixon-era muting of colors in its post-production finish, and an across-the-board acting contrivance owing a debt of gratitude to the earliest "Dirty Harry" movies.
Clayton Miller plays the film's drifting, small town gangster namesake. Shady White is indeed white, yet dresses in all-black suits evoking everyman hero Johnny Cash. Miller vaguely comes off like an Americanized Gabriel Byrne in appearance, and spouts a consistent, world-weary apathy. After being off the boss's payroll for a year, he's sucked back in to protect himself and the gal he still loves. Along the way, we encounter a slew of tiny-town, motel-housed crime urchins, all of whom are bent on projecting the bravado and savvy of Al Capone's most battle-tested underlings.
"Shady White" is indie filmmaking at a true grass roots level. Tonally, we somehow expect to see Starsky and Hutch driving by in their mid-1970's Gran Torino. Intended or otherwise, those still around from those times are most likely to appreciate the film's unexpected throwback evocations, and the collective effort demonstrated in conjuring its specific feel. - (Was this review of use to you? If so, let me know by clicking "Helpful." Cheers!)
