The Peanut Butter Falcon

Directors: Tyler Nilson and Michael Schwartz
Starring: Shia LaBeouf, Zack Gottsagen, Dakota Johnnson, John Hawkes, Bruce Dern, Jon Bernthal, Thomas Hayden Church, Mick Foley, Jake "The Snake" Roberts
Running Time: 98 minutes
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

Watching a film as simple and magical as The Peanut Butter Falcon is a reminder how often lesser movies with more tools at their disposal work to complicate things. It's easy to imagine nearly half a dozen versions of this same story, told in far clumsier ways, lacking the vision and intelligence that first-time writer/directors Tyler Nilson and Michael Schwartz bring to it. When you say something is "feel-good" or "inspirational" that implies a lot of baggage most movies, indie or not, just aren't capable of carrying. This one carries it, subverting the potential cliches that come with a synopsis cynical audiences would likely be picking apart before they've seen the end result.

While it's been frequently and accurately described as a modern Twain-like fable in the vain of Huck Finn, it's greatest attribute is that it tells a straightforward story about real people in a certain section of America well. That may seem like a complete distillation, but it's transformative on its own terms. And in considering that, you can't help but be reminded of Ebert's mantra of a movie not being what it's about, but how. In this sense, it emerges as sort of a Fargo companion piece, wherein a completely different genre and setting, it accomplishes that same goal of absorbing us into its world and the everyday rythms of these characters' lives.

There's a scene midway that's essentially a baptism of sorts (in the movie's unusually offbeat way) and it's impossible not to view it as one, for both the film's audience and its actors, two of whom exit as different performers than when they went in. Or at least, emerge again as the performers we always knew and hoped they could be if just given the right material. Add to that a third performer making his acting debut who's as real as it gets since the filmakers supposedly made this for him, their friend. But we soon realize it's the other way around, with his performance ranking amongst the most wonderously engaging of the year.

Zak (Zack Gottsagen) is a 22-year-old with Down syndrome living in a retirement home in North Carolina. With dreams of becoming a professional wrestler, he obsessively watches tapes of his favorite, the Salt Water Redneck (Thomas Hayden Church), whose wrestling school he's determined to attend. After staging many failed escapes, with the help of his roomate Carl (Bruce Dern), he manages to sneak out of the home in the middle of the night, leaving his care worker and friend Eleanor (Dakota Johnson) in a panic.

Zak's okay, but hiding out in a small boat owned by troubled fisherman Tyler (Shia LaBeouf), who's getting harassed by Duncan's (John Hawkes) gang of dangerous crabbers determined to make him pay for stealing from them and burning their equipment. A very reluctant Tyler eventually agrees to take Zak to the wrestling school on his way down to Florida, but they're being tailed, both by Duncan's gang and a determined Eleanor, tasked by the care facility to bring Zak home. As they sail North Carolina's Outer Banks en route to the school, Tyler bonds with Zak, even training him for his potential wrestling debut. But Eleanor has other plans, and isn't quite on board with the 22-year-old experiencing the independence Tyler has granted him on their journey.

Despite being a story that bucks convention and logic, it's brought to the screen in such an honest, no-nonsense style by Nilson and Schwartz that you rarely stop to consider any contrivances or manipulation. If those exist, it's pulled off so seamlessly that you'd hardly even stop to notice or care. It's just an enjoyable ride from start to finish, spent with two characters who develop this symbiotic friendship in which each has as much to learn from the other. And, if anything, LeBeouf's Tyler gleans more, starting their journey traumatized by the accidental role he had in his older brother Mark's (Jon Bernthal) death.

That traumatic event has pushed Tyler down the wrong path in a major way, but the unexpected arrival of Zak couldn't have come at a better time, as we slowly watch LaBeouf transform this troubled thief into a mentor and de facto big brother of sorts. Say what you will of the actor's off-screen troubles, but between this and the past year's far darker, but similarly affecting autobiographical Honey Boy, he's experienced a true resurrgence in 2019, channeling those challenges into deeply felt performances another actor without his history wouldn't have brought as much to. 

While not a moment rings false between Zak and Tyler, the appearance of Eleanor to bring him "home" allows the script to commentate on, but wisely not bludgeon us with, the issue of how much autonomy 22-year-old with Down syndrome should have. While he clearly doesn't belong in an old age home where he's nearly asphyxiated with structure, an equal argument can be made that the situations Tyler puts him in are dangerous despite going a long way toward building his self-sufficiency as an adult.

The great thing about Johnson's Eleanor is that she isn't presented as anyone less than having Zak's best interests in my mind. It's his spirit and determination that she still has to fully come around on. Much like LeBeouf, so much of Dakota Johnson's roles have been predictated on making her a "star,"  that's it's stripped away the early promise she showed as a character actress in projects like Fox's short-lived sitcom, Ben and Kate, and even her single memorable scene in The Social Network. Funny, sarcastic and likable, this brings her back to that, playing an everyday person questioning life while wearing her heart on her sleeve. It's neither complicated or showy, much like the material itself.

When they do eventually reach Zak's destination and come face-to-face with the Salt Water Redneck, it isn't what you'd expect. Rather than attempting to shoehorn the story into a pro wrestling atmosphere, the script seems to do the exact opposite in drawing that world into the one presented here, helping make its third act an unqualifiable success. There's a real believability trickling down from Thomas Hayden Church's frighteningly accurate turn as washed-up grappling veteran to the wrestler cameos from  Jake "The Snake" Roberts and Mick Foley, who fit so seamlessly into this that anyone unfamilar with either would think they cast two Florida locals in the roles.

Between the folky, bluegrass soundtrack and swampy settting, this is a film that very much exists in its own universe, yet one likely recognizable to everyday life for those residing in it. Whereas a lesser effort would go completely off the rails with its ending, the filmmakers know how unneccessary that approach would come off, instead only choosing to show only what's important, crediting its audience as smart enough to fill in the blanks. We don't need to know everything, or have our hands held throughout, as it most powerful moments rest less on what we see than the reassurance these three characters will remain together and be okay. With a high rewatch value, it's hard to imagine anyone disliking The Peanut Butter Falcon, making for an excellent indie film case study on just how much can be accomplished with what on the surface could have easily seemed to be very little.

Martha Marcy May Marlene

Director: Sean Durkin
Starring: Elizabeth Olsen, John Hawkes, Sarah Paulson, Hugh Dancy, Brady Corbet
Running Time: 102 min.
Rating: R

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

There's encouraging news for anyone who finds themselves indoctrinated into a cult. If you want out, you can just leave. We find that out in the bizarre opening scene of Sean Durkin's tongue-twistingly titled Martha Marcy May Marlene. In it, Martha (Elizabeth Olsen) decides she's had enough of this abusive lifestyle in New York's Catskill Mountains,"escaping" to a nearby diner to phone her sister, Lucy (Sarah Paulson). She picks Martha up and takes her to the lake house she shares in Connecticut with her husband Ted (Hugh Dancy). She neglects to mention the cult, but it's not like she has to. They'll know eventually. This opening is the most interesting sequence in a film filled with a lot of uninteresting ones, if only because the idea one could leave a cult at their own accord is a detail we've never been privy to before. So right away we know this won't be about Scientology. That movie doesn't come out for another month anyway. As for the rest of the film's details? They're less surprising.

This film's a strange case since it's easy pointing out what didn't quite work, but much tougher coming up with solutions that could have improved it. Its subject matter, psychology and seventies-style aesthetic should have made this a terrifying barn burner, but instead it doesn't seem to tell us anything we didn't already know. As awful as it is to say that a film featuring rape, murder, robbery and brainwashing offers up very few revelations about what's already widely assumed about cults, it's true. Nothing new here. The same could be said of the protagonist's psychological unraveling. Cutting between flashbacks and present day to simulate Martha's fractured psyche, we what her life was like in the cult as she's introduced to its enigmatic leader Patrick (John Hawkes) and taken in by his promises of a self-sufficient lifestyle. In the creepiest, most arresting scene, he serenades her with "Marcy's Song," and insists she go by the name Marcy May. Her sexual initiation is brutal.

Hawkes is one of our greatest character actors so it only makes sense he would tear into this role with gusto and he does. To a point. But I couldn't help but wish he had more screen time so he could cast an even larger shadow. His scenes are brilliant but feels like a teaser for something that could have been explored further. I understand the low-key, slow-burn approach, but eventually you have to pull the trigger and Durkin's failure to do that doesn't give Hawkes the meaty material he needs. He doesn't need to immediately serve Kool-Aid or go on a killing spree but something extreme or surprising certainly seemed called for when dealing with this kind of material. It doesn't help that the mostly intriguing cult flashback scenes is forced to share time with the clumsier present-day storyline.

Martha's sister and brother-in-law are depicted as complete dopes who somehow fail to notice a mentally ill person desperately needing help is living under their roof until it's almost literally too late. As if sleeping on the floor, swimming in the nude, and having panic attacks aren't enough to send up red flags. It's unreasonable to expect them to know the exact details of her situation, but instead of hearing her cries for help, they're yelling at her for being selfish. When Martha tells her sister Lucy she'd make a terrible mother, it feels like one of the few moments of clarity in the entire picture. If she can't even recognize such a blatantly obvious mental problem with her own sister, what does that mean for her potential parenting skills?

Elizabeth Olsen (younger sister of Mary-Kate and Ashley) delivers a borderline Oscar-worthy performance as Martha, even if the screenplay seems to beat the same drum throughout. It's an effective portrayal of someone who seems to be battling paranoia, post traumatic stress disorder, and schizophrenia all at once and is losing. Martha, as do we at points during the story, contemplate which life was worse for her. Abuse became her new normal, inflicted by someone who preys on the young and vulnerable. And now that it's over, real world problems begin. Is Durkin implying that being a slave to society is less preferable than being a cult member?  Olsen's definitely a real find, and of all my issues with this, she'd never be listed among them. What works does so because of her quiet realism, but it's also easy to see how this came and went unnoticed at awards time. The material just wasn't there to support it, and when the film's taken as a whole, it's somewhat forgettable and unimaginative. Taken in pieces though, it's tougher to shake. Especially the final scene. It does succeed in making you think. resulting in a film that's worth another watch, but has a personality as fractured as its title character's

Winter's Bone

Director: Debra Granik 
Starring: Jennifer Lawrence, John Hawkes, Garret Dillahunt, Lauren Sweetser, Dale Dickey, Shelley Waggener
Running Time: 100 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

If The Hurt Locker and Precious conceived a movie offspring that grew up poor in the Ozarks, physically and emotionally abused by scary townsfolk against the backdrop of an unforgivingly bleak landscape at every turn for over an hour and a half, her name would be Winter's Bone. For better or worse, it's hard not to be reminded of those two films while watching this and even more difficult to decipher whether that's a compliment. While not as exciting as the former or as controversial as the latter, it deals with a timely, hot-button issue in the most depressing way possible, to the point that many viewers will probably be wanting to reach for razor blades when it concludes (if they can even make it that far). And to put icing on the cake, it's directed by a woman. Saying this project has "Oscar" written all over it would probably be an understatement.

Every year it seems there's a little seen, low budget independent film that cleans up on the festival circuit and critics everywhere begin championing it as their "cause." What starts as an underdog (or "slumdog" in some cases), can overnight turn into a film we're sick of hearing about. They often feature a nominated performance from a complete unknown, marking the arrival of a major new talent, whether their name is Carey Mulligan, Gaborey Sidibe or Jeremy Renner. This time we get one from a newcomer and another from one of the best character actors working today. Winter's Bone tells a story as old as the mountains where it takes place, offering nothing new or exciting, but benefits from not doing anything wrong and containing performances that are too powerful to write off, redeeming what's otherwise a depressing dirge to sit through. It's a well directed, beautifully shot acting clinic but nothing more. And that ends up being enough.

Burdened with the responsibility of taking care of her comatose mother and two younger siblings after her drug dealer father disappears, 17-year-old Ree Dolly (Jennifer Lawrence) learns he's put up their Missouri Ozarks home as bail bond. With only a week until they're all kicked out, she sets out on a  treacherous journey to find him that exposes her to the seedy underground of local crime and its dangerous townsfolk, chief among them her own downright scary uncle, Teardrop (John Hawkes). With each stop she's given just enough information to keep going but not enough to quit and the closer she gets to the truth the more she starts to realize some things may have been better left unknown, at least for her own safety and survival. From a narrative standpoint it's clear early on exactly where this is headed, and while there's a fair amount of tension, there's nothing particularly thrilling about how anything unfolds. It's more of a slow burn that builds momentum toward its conclusion. The movie consists almost entirely of Ree's terrifying confrontations with these criminals who could care less how bad she and her family have it because in their minds they have it just as bad, if not worse, and need to do whatever it takes to protect themselves. They hold all the cards, to the point that even the local sheriff (Garret Dillahunt) is too afraid to help her, yet preoccupied about anyone finding out that fact.

Jennifer Lawrence is this movie. She's the driving force, appearing in every scene with her character going through hell in most of them. This is a challenging part on every level and no matter how ordinary the movie plays as a whole, there's absolutely nothing ordinary about this performance and she's earned all the high praise she's been getting for it. Lawrence's gives the film its only inkling of hope by playing Ree as a girl who just refuses to give up and perseveres despite every grueling obstacle put in front of her. While Lawrence acknowledges but effectively conceals Ree's fear, never hinting at even a trace of self-pity, which is essential to her whole story working and us rooting hard for her. She also has to help cover for some of writer/director Debra Granik's more questionable calls, like a third act plot development seemingly more suited to a low budget horror movie than a human drama. There won't be five female performances better than this all year and barring any shocking miscarriage of justice, Lawrence's nomination is a lock, regardless of how few people even see or know about the film.

More doubtful for awards consideration but no less deserving is John Hawkes as Teardrop and anyone who doesn't know Hawkes by name most definitely knows his face by sight ("Oh, it's THAT guy"). A gifted character actor for over twenty years, he's appeared in films like A Perfect Storm, Identity, Miami Vice and American Gangster as well as TV series' such as Deadwood and most recently Lost and Eastbound and Down. And that's only scratching the surface. Mostly known for playing meek, mild mannered minor characters, he's a chameleon in how he can fly under the radar and slide into any role but here he's the most unrecognizable he's ever been, transforming into this monster of a man ready to snap at any moment. Without speaking a word he conveys this quiet rage and menace that's terrifying, but when he does speak, it's even scarier. That this is the only person Ree can depend on (and he's a family member no less) says a lot a lot about the characters populating this story and how poverty has destroyed them. And when you slowly realize Teardrop wasn't exactly who you thought he was, you gain even more appreciation for what Hawkes brought. For me, there's nothing better in movies than seeing a under-valued, hard working supporting actor or actress break through after decades with the perfect part that finally gives them the opportunity to show everyone what they've got. This is that part for Hawkes and few actors could be more deserving.The film's most tensest scene (and Hawke's best) is a road side confrontation with Dillahunt's sheriff that could go anywhere but still ends in a way you wouldn't expect. Fittingly, Dillahunt also played a sheriff in No Country For Old Men, the film this is most comparable to, at least in terms of its depiction of a depressive American landscape. That took a while and a few viewings to really grow on me so at least there's that.

Winter's Bone won't ever be mistaken for a chase film or a mystery of any kind but it's tightly wound character piece driven by dark, gothic elements, as well as its haunting score and impressive cinematography . It's a noirish thriller that makes up for in atmosphere whatever's lacking in actual thrills. I wish I appreciated the film as much as the two performances that carried it, but it's doubtful that could have been possible given the high quality of work put forth by Lawrence and Hawkes. The impression they leave cuts deeper than a story we've seen many times before under a variety of different guises, no matter how timely or socially concious it is. Winter's Bone is technically skillful piece of filmmaking that wears its depressing realism on its sleeve, but I can't help but wonder if maybe we should start receiving awards for surviving viewing experiences this bleak and hopeless.