Blood Dumpster

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The Hill Person Threw A Party: Get Low

Felix Bush is an enigma. He has lived alone deep in the woods for decades, never bothering to contact anybody. The children are terrified of the crazy old hermit, who is liable to welcome you with a loaded shotgun if you find yourself on his property. Most of the adults, however, don't think about him very often. Out of sight, out of mind. But the old-timers in town, they love to tell a tale or two about old Felix. In fact, if you asked around, you'd find that just about everybody has their own story to tell regarding the old man in the woods.

But what's the truth? People love to gossip, that never changes. And most folks have their own ideas as to why Felix Bush has isolated himself in the backwoods of circa-1930s Tennessee. But nobody knows, for sure. Because the only person left alive who knows the truth isn't telling it.

And then day Felix rode into town on an old wagon, and paid a visit to the local funeral parlor.

Hopefully you've seen the trailer for "Get Low", and know the basic plot of the story. If not, let me break it down for you: Old hermit Felix Bush knows that he's not long for this world, and decides to hold a living wake, of sorts. He wants everybody in town to come to a big party, complete with food and live music, where they can all share their stories of Mr. Bush, and where he may finally share his own story with all of them.

These days, the idea of a living wake is not that uncommon. Many people suffering from terminal illnesses choose to have these "dress rehersals", for a variety of reasons. But over 70 years ago, in the rural American South, this was unheard of. Funerals were for the dead, and the dead alone. But Felix has carried a heavy burden for a very long time, and is determined to exorcise his personal demons before it's too late.

I don't really want to say anymore about the film's story. There's no great 3rd act twist to this tale, so that's not the reason. No, I just don't want to spoil the movie. That's shocking, isn't it? Besides, this film isn't really about the story, at least not for me. No, this film is all about the actors. First-time feature film director Aaron Schneider has surrounded himself with a stellar cast, and they deliver some fantastic performances.

Robert Duvall is amazing as Felix Bush. He just inhabits the role; he never feels like he's "acting". His Felix feels like a real person who has isolated himself from civilization as some sort of penance for his past sins. There's a deep pain written into the lines of his face, and his eyes present a hard facade, barely masking a buried sorrow always threatening to surface.

When Felix finally does take the stage at his "funeral party", his monologue is absolutely enthralling. He punctuates his tale with the occassional sneer of anger, a sharp intake of breath through clenched jaws, and brief moments where he simply finds himself lost in his memories, standing in a heavy silence. It's one of the most amazing acting moments I have seen in a very long time.

And in the auditorium, the entire audience sat in rapt silence. Nobody crunched on their popcorn, or slurped their sodas. For five minutes, absolutely nothing could distract them from the screen. I can't remember the last time I've seen that happen. That's what a legend like Robert Duvall can do.

Bill Murray, playing funeral parlor owner Frank Quinn, is pitch-perfect in his role. In a film dealing with some pretty heavy subject matter, this role, primarily geared toward some much-needed comic relief, could have been a stereotypical disaster. But Murray is the master of subdued, straight-faced humor. He's funnier because he's not playing it over-the-top. He's not manic, and he never winks to the crowd.

This, I've learned from years of watching comedies, is a very rare talent. And it seems to be a natural gift for Bill Murray, who has been putting every other comedic actor to shame on film since "Ghostbusters".

Let's look at his introduction in the film: Quinn comes into work one morning, sits at his desk, and laments to his assistant Buddy (played by Lucas Black) that people seem to be dying everywhere except for his neck of the woods. Everybody dies, so being a funeral director he should never be hurting for work. But the citizens of his small town stubbornly refuse to die.

Now this scene could go several different ways with the dialogue as written. One could choose to be melodramatic, to hang their head and moan, really milking the scene for their own misguided definition of comedy. Or they could play it completely straight. There is very little about the scene's dialogue that is funny, in and of itself. It's all about the delivery.

And Bill Murray knows delivery. He knows exactly how to play this scene, with subtle undertones to his speech, small mannerisms and almost imperceptible facial expressions that all serve to make his performance funny without drawing undue attention to himself. It's fascinating to watch. And nobody does this better than him.

Then we have Sissy Spacek as Mattie Darrow, the woman who used to date Felix many, many years ago. After a family tragedy, she left town and started a family. After her husband died, she returned to her hometown, because it's really the only place she has left that she can call "home". She plays a regular card game with several of the notable men in town, among them Frank Quinn, who clearly carries a torch for her.

Sissy Spacek has the kindest eyes I've ever seen in film. There's this innate quality to them, some kind of eternal innocence that is just magical. She's also pretty versatile, considering her turn as a rather villainous lobbyist in the previous season of HBO's "Big Love". She used her soft, kind eyes as a weapon in her role, disarming her opponents with her warm smile. She was the bright spot in an otherwise disappointing season.

Spacek, unsurprisingly, does a fine job in "Get Low". When she happens across Felix after so long, her youthful enthusiasm returns with her pleasant memories of the man he used to be. But there's pain, as well, because not only was Felix the first man she ever loved, he was also the first man to break her heart. And Felix's haunting secret is tied to Mattie, although she doesn't realize it.

Throw in Lucas Black, a young actor with a long track record, as Buddy. I was first introduced to Black in the late, great series, "American Gothic". He had a natural presence on-screen, and I was a little disappointed with his career trajectory, as of late. Sure, he was good in "Cold Mountain", "Friday Night Lights", and "Jarhead", but those were supporting roles. The only films I've seen where Lucas Black played the lead were "The Fast And The Furious: Tokyo Drift" and "Legion". Neither of these films is really any good, and his performances were lacking.

In "Get Low", I suppose you could call his role a supporting one, although I believe his screentime is equal to Bill Murray's. Frank Quinn tends to keep his distance from Felix, rarely engaging in any substantial conversation with the man, choosing to maintain a more "professional" relationship. Buddy spends time with Felix. He tries to get to know the man, which is incredibly difficult, because Felix isn't the type for chit-chat.

Over time, however, Buddy does manage to get through to Felix, in a way. In the final act, you can see that Felix has grown comfortable with the young man. His body language is more relaxed, and he speaks (just a bit) more liberally. If Felix had more time, one could imagine these two characters becoming close friends.

Lucas Black plays Buddy as a young man doing whatever he can to take care of his new family, even if that means putting up with his eccentric employer. At numerous points in the film, you can see the exasperation on Buddy's face when Frank says or does something he deems inappropriate. Once again, it's subtle; there are no drama queens in this movie. Nobody is out to draw attention to themselves. Black, like all of the other principal actors, lets his character shine through, and doesn't drown in melodramatics.

Last, but certainly not least, is Bill Cobbs. This man has been working seemingly without rest (if you look him up on IMDB) since 1974. He's been in A-list hollywood blockbusters, Z-grade hollywood dreck, hit TV sitcoms and dramas, but he's never gotten his proper due. Most people don't even know who the man is, and I think that's a travesty. He's always good. Let me say that again: He's always good. He's made episodes of "Enterprise" and "Yes, Dear" watchable. That's quite the accomplishment.

Morgan Freeman has the career Bill Cobbs deserves.

In "Get Low", Cobbs plays Reverend Charlie Jackson, Felix's oldest (and only) friend in the world. A skilled carpenter and craftsman, Felix built the chapel where Charlie's congregation gathers every Sunday. Charlie also happens to be the only other soul who knows what secret Felix has been hiding for so long.

When Felix walks into Charlie's chapel for the first time in over thirty years, Charlie embraces his old friend like a brother. But their pleasant reunion doesn't last long; as soon as Felix confides in him, telling Charlie that he doesn't believe he has the strength to tell his story, Charlie admonishes him.

Felix wants Charlie to come to his "funeral party" and tell the story in his stead, but the old preacher refuses. It's simply not his story to tell. It doesn't matter if Charlie tells the entire world what terrible thing happened all those years ago. It won't mean a damned thing unless Felix finds the courage to do it, himself.

Charlie acts as Felix's conscience in the film. He's the little angel on his friend's shoulder, telling him to get right with the world before it's too late. He's at times kind, stern, disapproving and downright angry. But he cares about Felix. That fact is evident with every moment of Bill Cobbs' performance.

Although Charlie isn't introduced in the film until around the halfway mark, he becomes a big presence in the film from that point forward. That was a pleasant surprise, for me. I feared that after the scene Charlie shared with Felix in the chapel, we would simply never see the old preacher again. I'm glad I was proven wrong. Because Bill Cobbs is this film's secret weapon. The film is simply a better one with the presence of Charlie in the second half of the film, and with Cobbs and his natural charisma and likeability.

And of course, the man won't get the recognition he deserves for this role, because it's not as big as Duvall's role, not as meaty. Cobbs doesn't get a big speech in front of a large group of people; he gets an intimate conversation in an old, quiet chapel. Bill Cobbs is just doing what he's been doing for over thirty years. He's a great character actor.

And most character actors, sadly, don't receive their due by the masses until after they've died. Just look at J.T. Walsh. Now that he doesn't pop up in your mid-budget thrillers and character studies, you miss him. We really don't know what we've got until it's gone. Well, not me. I appreciate Bill Cobbs.

Now that I've discussed the performances, what about the rest of the movie? What about all of the other elements that come together to make a motion picture? Director Schneider does a perfectly fine job with his first real movie. He understood the kind of movie he was making. All he had to really do was point the camera at the amazing actors and let them do most of the work. And that's more or less what he does. None of the cinematography really draws your attention, which is a good thing. Remember, this film is really about the actors, anyway.

The original music by Jan Kaczmarek and Jerry Douglas does an admirable job of setting the mood. It maintains the elements of traditional Southern bluegrass music, with no danger of sliding into parody territory. I wouldn't mind owning the soundtrack, honestly. I may just have to go pick that up. The production design is superb, really. No elements of this film's world ever rang false. Overall, it's a solid production.

I would like to mention one scene that I especially enjoyed, before I move on. This is the first real scene of the film, and the moment that eventually drives Felix to return to civilization. It's the middle of the night, and Felix is overcome with pain. He believes he's going to die. So what does he do? He steps outside in the pouring rain, his blanket wrapped around him, clutching an oil lamp. He staggers over to the stable, where he keeps his mule.

Inside, he fills his mule's trough with grain, and finally opens the gate, before sitting down on an old chair, drifting off to sleep, and presumably, death. When he wakes up in the morning, he's surprised that he's still alive. He's even more surprised when he walks outside the stable to see his mule sitting in the dirt, waiting for him.

It's a sequence of sadness, humanity, compassion and humor, all at once. And it's a beautiful thing.

An American. Not the American: The American

So George Clooney's back. And he's great. Is that a surprise? Of course it isn't. Do you want to know what's surprising about "The American"? He manages to be great without relying on the easy-going charm that has served him so well in the past. That's pretty cool, actually. The protagonist of "The American" is not a particularly pleasant fellow.

Don't get me wrong, Dear Imaginary Reader, he can be amicable, even cordial. But his eyes are cold and cruel. Jack (or Edward, depending on who you ask) is an assassin, of sorts. He's clearly been playing this game for a long time. But in the opening moments in the film, Jack's respite in Sweden is broken by violence. We can assume that this is a retaliation of sorts, although it's never made clear.

There are no definitive answers in this film, although it is never hard to follow. If you just sit down and watch the damned movie, you'll never be lost. That's the thing about real life that people find maddening when it's replicated in movies.

"What do you mean I can't be spoonfed every last detail? But how will I know what's going on if you don't carry me in your arms like an exhausted toddler coming down from an ice cream-induced sugar high? Placate me!!!"

I find it maddening that so many people in the world simply won't give a movie a chance because they heard it's "too talky" or "confusing". Where did our attention spans go? I blame the smartphone.

Anyway, after shit goes South in Sweden, Jack calls his employer Pavel, and he's told to lie low in a small Italian village until he is contacted. Jack drives to this quaint little hole in the wall, gets freaked out when everybody realizes that George Clooney has just pulled into town and stares intently at this devastatingly handsome actor, then fucks off up the road to another quaint little hole in the wall before the paparazzi show up.

Taking up temporary residence in rural Italy, Pavel gives Jackie Boy a new job: assemble a specialized weapon for an attractive, mysterious woman named Mathilde, because she desperately wants to kill somebody in style. Jack reluctantly agrees to do this One. Last. Job.

Jack also starts banging a gorgeous prostitute named Clara, who has absolutely no objections to getting nude early and often. On top of that, Jack befriends an old priest who had a penchant for breaking his vow of chastity in the old days. Jack's a popular guy.

In between numerous scenes of Jack working out, Jack building Omega Gun, Jack fucking Clara, Jack eating dinner with the priest, Jack walking with the priest in a graveyard, and more idyllic picnics than you can shake a loaded .44 magnum at, some Swedish pricks track down Jack because they missed their chance to get killed back home.

Our boy Jack eventually realizes two things: that sweet, nude Clara has thawed his icy heart, and that his boss Pavel wants him dead. Uh oh. What's a love-struck assassin to do?

I guess that's the plot for "The American". It's very European, if that means anything. A lot of people turn their noses up when they hear that word in regards to cinema. Fucking pretentious Europeans. Well I say Fuck You. There's nothing wrong with a slow burn movie. Doesn't anybody remember "The Conversation"? That movie's a masterpiece, and it's a real slow burn. There's nothing wrong with a movie taking its own time to get to its destination.

I loved "The American". My mother, who saw it with me, did not. She saw the ads on TV and thought that the movie would be some kind of action-packed extravaganza. When she was confronted with a quieter film that focused more on character and mood, she turned on it. "That kinda sucked", she told me as we left the auditorium. I have a feeling most of the people leaving the auditorium were saying similar things to each other.

A middle-aged couple sitting in front of us were a source of annoyance. The husband was clearly confused by everything he was seeing. The wife essentially narrated the entire film to him in a throaty whisper. Every time she explained to him what had just happened, she would stare at her husband and nod her head in a satisfied manner. Of course, near the climax of the film, she loudly sighed and declared "this fucking movie is boring", before she turned her attention back to her neglected tub of popcorn.

Clooney is a tightly wound machine in this film. Until Clara comes along and waves her amazing breasts in his face, his countenance is dominated by his icy, calculating gaze. He doesn't really do anything for fun, aside from fucking prostitutes, so he spends most of his free time working out and pretending to read books about butterflies. He doesn't have a life, as such. He's just existing.

When he finds something to live for, he relaxes a bit. It's a little like he's a very reserved child who's found a new toy he likes to play with. He still keeps up his stoic facade, but the cracks are showing. Like I said earlier, this is a noteworthy performance because Clooney doesn't rely on his usual tricks to charm the audience. He never cracks that signature sly smile that we all know and love. He's an incomplete person in this movie, and only in the last act does he start to coalesce as an individual.

Violante Placido plays the beautiful woman of loose virtue, Clara. She's so... so... nude. Oh, and she has an amazing body. She's also a decent actress, and she has a cute accent. You can see why this is the girl that gets to Jack. It's also refreshing that when Jack and Clara actually start seeing each other outside of the brothel, her profession is never a problem for him. He's a hired killer, he could give less than a shit about Clara's chosen vocation.

The only real issue I have with "The American" lies in the ending. I'm not going to tell you how it ends. That seems to be the theme of the day, even though I am typing this in the dead of night. Sometimes I just don't feel like spoiling shit. Anyway, my problem doesn't lie with the ending, itself. It's with the way the ending is presented, notably in the final shot. This shot showcases a lone, computer-generated butterfly taking wing, gently fluttering into the sky over a tragic scene. It's too on-the-nose. A small disappointment, though.

I was pleased to see "The American" open at #1 during its first weekend of release. I suppose those trailers fooled a lot of people like my mother.

The Last Temptation Of Opie

It was recently announced that Ron Howard and Akiva Goldsmith are developing a movie franchise/TV series hybrid of Stephen King's "Dark Tower" series for Universal Pictures and NBC. My cousin Ky and myself both love the story of gunslinger Roland and his quest to destroy the Crimson King.

And I speak for both of when I say this is the worst idea I have heard since New Coke.

I'll ramble about "Machete" soon. And probably the latest "Resident Evil" flick, too. We'll see.