Triple Frontier (2019): Thrilling Heist and Lackluster Characters

After a 5 year absence and attempting to make larger films at major studios, J. C. Chandor has returned with his biggest feature yet. Triple Frontier is led by Oscar Isaac (Inside Llewyn Davis), Ben Affleck (Argo), and Charlie Hunnam (The Lost City of Z). Isaac plays a member of the military working in South America to take down a cartel. When he finds where the cartel leader is hiding – and that his money is hiding with him – he goes to his former brothers in arms to help him take out the drug lord and seize the money.

Despite the big name cast, the acting is one of the film’s weakest parts. Ben Affleck speaks with a tired, gruff delivery that is meant to make him seem grizzled and world-weary, but instead he comes off as disinterested and often bored, maintaining a single blank expression for the majority of his screen time. Charlie Hunnam, an English actor, struggles to establish his American accent. He plays a southern military man but is unable to maintain the desired speaking voice for more than a few words at a time. He regularly starts with a southern twang then relapses into a posh Englishman to a distracting degree. The least offensive of the leads is Oscar Isaac who plays his character straight as the optimist-turned-pragmatist. He is frustrated with the corrupt system he has lived in while the fighting drug cartels and his decision to independently seize the funds is a believable turn, yet even Isaac’s performance isn’t noteworthy.

The screenplay, written by Mark Boal (Zero Dark Thirty) and Chandor has little interest in its characters. The first act of the film introduces the characters, their backstories, and their comradery but does so in broad, cliched strokes. Each lead has a single defining trait and little effort is put into developing any of them beyond that. We are expected to believe in the strength of their friendship based on the hugs they greet each other with, but any of the backstory is forcibly and explicitly told, rather than shown. The script’s dialogue is overflowing with clumsy exposition as Boal and Chandor attempt to cram in the necessary details to make the heist plausible. The film’s writing is mostly a necessary component to support the main draw – the heist.

The back and forth between the characters never works and takes up an unfortunate amount of the film’s runtime.

It’s a good thing the act itself is worth the wait. Chandor has proven himself a strong director, but Triple Frontier is his first action title and he clearly has a talent for it. All the rushed storytelling that preceded fades to the background once the heist begins. At this stage, the film finally begins to demonstrate, not explicitly lecture, its characters. Each person has their own distinct role in the crime with Affleck serving as the tactician calling out movements. The speed and efficiency they move with are enthralling. They prove themselves to be an elite group of trained military professionals in the way they methodically infiltrate and clear the cartel boss’s home. Chandor shoots these scenes with the same attention to detail. His camera gradually moves from room to room, sweeping for occupants in the same way as the film’s cast and the effect is immersive. The heist and the eventual escape account for roughly a third of the runtime and every moment of these sequences is precipitous as the cast’s quick course corrections always put them on the verge of total failure.

It’s a shame that this level of quality does not extend into the film’s beginning and ending. Without the high stakes of the heist, we are left with cliched characters we don’t care about and performances that are, at best, merely adequate. Triple Frontier is one taut, deftly executed infiltration, bookended by time spent with people that aren’t worth our attention.

3/5 stars.

Ash Is Purest White (2019): Struggles in a Changing World

Jia Zhangke (A Touch of Sin) has made a name for himself telling stories of regular people as they struggle to survive in the midst of the social and economic upheaval occurring in China. His newest film stars his wife and frequent collaborator Zhao Tao (Mountains May Depart) as Zhao Qiao, the girlfriend of a mobster named Guo Bin (Fan Liao). After a repercussion of his criminal lifestyle, Qiao goes to prison and finds herself alone at her eventual release. She searches for her former lover as she tries to reclaim her lost time and identity, but learns the outside world has changed since she left it.

Jia finds beauty in the within the meager environments. Many of the households seen in the film are cramped, drab dwellings, but even as the spaces are unremarkable, Jia uses striking compositions to bring life to the settings. Whether it’s Qiao’s positioning or using reflections off a streaky mirror, the craftsmanship overrides the bleak interiors. In exterior scenes, Jia takes advantage of the eerie cities. He frames outdoor scenes with an emphasis on scale and emptiness. In some parts of China, rapid real estate development has led to “ghost cities” where the supply of new housing far outran the demand. Qiao is engulfed by this sprawling housing and infrastructure as she travels. Even when there are others nearby, her framing highlights her loneliness and disconnection from a world that is rapidly changing and leaving parts of itself behind.

Jia creates arresting compositions out of ordinary settings.

The film’s narrative has three acts, only two of which are successful. The early scenes of Qiao’s life as the girlfriend of a powerful gangster set up the frivolity of her existence and serve as contrast to the austerity of her life post-prison as she attempts to reconnect with Bin. This transformation and the conclusion of her search form a satisfying arc for her character. Then the film continues. The third act, which begins almost two hours into the film, makes leaps in logic and in time as it races towards the ending that seems to be Jia’s true target. Over a single cut, time skips forward and the lives of characters have drastically changed with little indication of how. For a filmmaker that typically basks in the small details of life, allowing narratives to unfold at an unhurried tempo, the rushed pacing is unexpected and leaves gaps in character development that harm the final scenes. Lacking the gradual buildup Jia has spent the first two hours establishing, the film’s conclusion fails to produce the intended emotional response and closes on unsatisfying note. Jia has created an observant look at a character’s growth in a changing world, but appended an unnecessary and rushed epilogue harmful to the film’s deliberate style.

3/5 stars.

Climax (2019): Don’t Drink the Sangria

Regardless of his filmmaking talents, Gaspar Noé (Irreversible) is first known for being a provocateur. His films have angered and reviled audiences around the world and led to walk outs due to the content onscreen. Climax, while by no means even remotely close to mainstream, may be his most agreeable title to date, if agreeable is even a term that can be applied to anything Noé has created. The film follows a Parisian dance troupe as they initially practice then unwind by throwing a party. The mood is jovial until things take a turn for the worse. People start feeling something strange and they soon realize that someone has spiked their sangria with a heavy dose of drugs and it sets off a night of drug-fueled chaos.

The best part of any Noé film isn’t the narrative or the characters, it’s the pure experience. At his best, Noé uses a blend of unnerving sound effects, hypnotic music, high-contrast lighting, and swirling cameras to create a cinematically-induced euphoria or, in some cases, total paralysis. It’s a pure, visceral response that few films can produce  and even fewer filmmakers can consistently create. There are a few moments in Climax that reach this level of reaction. An opening dance number features the cast rhythmically gyrating and contorting their bodies in ways that we know are choreographed but feel like instinctual movements borne from the thumping electronic music that overwhelms our ears. The effect is mesmerizing as it inundates the senses and transfixes your attention. Sadly, this is the only scene of the film that is able to produce this reaction.

The film’s highlight is its opening dance number.

The majority of the film focuses on the pandemonium created by the high dancers. The drugs produce different responses in each person. Some become overly emotional while others become wild or even violent. Very few of them make good decisions as it becomes clear that the film has morphed into a horror movie with the negative effects of the unknown substance as the primary threat. The characters’ behaviors can quickly become tiring. We haven’t developed affections towards them and have little investment in their well-being which makes their blatantly stupid decision-making  irritating, even if it is understandable given their physical state. Mimicking their world rapidly spiraling out of control, Noé and his regular cinematographer Benoît Debie (Spring Breakers) use a swirling camera that is as mobile as the dancers, weaving through their tangled bodies and effectively capturing their confusion. Yet, because of the poorly sketched characters and their self-destructive actions, the intended horror is kept arm’s length.

As usual, Noé is guilty of several indulgences. The film opens with seemingly never-ending interviews with each of the dancers asking why they want to join the troupe and the party pre-drugs features several scenes of dialogue as inane as the characters are inebriated. Noé lets these scenes stretch into minutes long takes of drunken friends talking about which of the other dancers they want to sleep with as they go into excessive, graphic detail for no purpose. Furthermore, there are plot points and character outcomes that are present for no reason other than shock value. These sections pad out the film’s short runtime and highlight how little material is actually present. Climax has moments of the Noé’s best talent of creating enveloping visceral responses, but the film’s drug-trip-as-horror premise fails to connect.

3/5 stars.

Fighting with My Family (2019): Cheeky Humor and Genuine Heart

Based on a documentary, Fighting with My Family is the story of how WWE Diva Paige entered professional wrestling and the upbringing that led to her career. Paige Knight (Florence Pugh; Lady Macbeth) comes from a very strange family. Her parents, played by Lena Headey (Game of Thrones) and Nick Frost (Hot Fuzz), are wrestlers and run their own independent wrestling association using their own children and any other interested parties in the ring. Paige has grown up dreaming of becoming a professional wrestler and gets an opportunity to make that dream a reality when the WWE comes to town looking for recruits.  

Nearly unrecognizable in her role, Florence Pugh is terrific. She plays Paige as a sharp-witted, hard-working but believably insecure woman who is coming dangerously close to the future she and her family have always dreamed of. The role is a marked departure from the period pieces Pugh has become known for. Her goth-like, foul-mouthed Paige is the epitome of a rebellious outsider as she visibly clashes with the former models and cheerleaders that make up the rest of her fellow recruits. At times, she can be overly hostile to her peers, but the unfriendly behavior is quickly revealed as a defense mechanism for her own self-doubt. Pugh is able to balance the tough exterior and uncertain thoughts naturally, making Paige the irreverent, but relatable lead needed to carry the film.

The Knight family’s attitude is hilarious, especially when they come into contact with normal people.

Director Stephen Merchant’s writing adds warmth and humor to the predictable plot. The narrative follows what is expected of a sports biopic with the necessary small-time beginnings, personal and professional struggles, and an expected outcome but with plenty of laughs along the way. Much of the humor comes from the flippant attitude of the Knight family. They wholesale reject anything outside of their one true cause with little awareness or regard for societal norms. Merchant subtly uses this comical level of devotion to add heart to the film. Yes, the idea of a family dedicating themselves to their little attended, barely sustainable wrestling show is ridiculous, but the sport is inextricably tied to their identity and familial bonds. Wrestling is what unites and connects them in a way that goes beyond pastimes or hobbies. Wrestling is a religion to the Knight family and their sincere commitment creates both the absurdity and genuine heart that bring life to the film.

It might be blatant advertising for the WWE, but it’s impossible to deny its effectiveness. No aspect of the film feels cold or designed by a brand strategy team. Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson makes a cameo and spends his brief screen time grinning with pride, revealing the film for what it truly is: a passion project. With a strong supporting cast like Headey and Frost, the film has talent to spare and their performances take this story based on a sport that many look down upon and make it universal, even to those who dislike wrestling. Fighting with My Family becomes about more than athletic achievement. It’s about family, dreams, and the dedication it takes to achieve them, all packaged in a thick wrapping of hilariously crass, cheeky attitude.

4/5 stars.