One of the strongest achievements in recent years in independent cinema is "Blue Ruin". It's brilliantly written and directed by Jeremy Saulnier who just a few years ago was making his own amateur monster movies with his friends, some of whom were involved in this inspired revenge thriller that is the antithesis of the usual commercial revenge thriller.
Shot on a less-than-shoestring budget, it stars Macon Blair (best friend of Saulnier since childhood) as Dwight, an apparent homeless drifter housing a grudge against a convict about to be released from prison whom he feels had murdered his parents. Dwight is obviously unaccustomed to violence (he's never fired a gun) and, as in the best of the Noir classics, makes one bad decision that plunges him way over his head into a harrowing murder plot that'll keep viewers on the edge of their seats.
What makes this film so unique is how its suspense comes from slow, quiet inexorable tension punctuated with a few acts of violence that seem authentic, bearing none of the sensationalism or tired clichés one gets in garbage like "Taken" and its tiresome ilk. The triumph of "Blue Ruin" is even greater when one realizes that its director used his own family house and his family car making it, and managed such a height of verisimilitude by using cinema in its purest form. Here an 'amateur' outdoes the Hollywood pros in making a superb virtually perfect thriller that won't easily be forgotten.
Shot on a less-than-shoestring budget, it stars Macon Blair (best friend of Saulnier since childhood) as Dwight, an apparent homeless drifter housing a grudge against a convict about to be released from prison whom he feels had murdered his parents. Dwight is obviously unaccustomed to violence (he's never fired a gun) and, as in the best of the Noir classics, makes one bad decision that plunges him way over his head into a harrowing murder plot that'll keep viewers on the edge of their seats.
What makes this film so unique is how its suspense comes from slow, quiet inexorable tension punctuated with a few acts of violence that seem authentic, bearing none of the sensationalism or tired clichés one gets in garbage like "Taken" and its tiresome ilk. The triumph of "Blue Ruin" is even greater when one realizes that its director used his own family house and his family car making it, and managed such a height of verisimilitude by using cinema in its purest form. Here an 'amateur' outdoes the Hollywood pros in making a superb virtually perfect thriller that won't easily be forgotten.