Tag Archives: Colin Farrell

Widows (2018): Finishing the Job

Coming off his best picture winning 12 Years a Slave, director Steve McQueen has made the switch to studio fare. Widows features a noticeably larger budget and higher-profile cast than his previous works. The film opens with four men attempting a heist, led by Liam Neeson (Taken), only for it to go horribly wrong. In the background of this heist, there is a contentious election for alderman of a poor Chicago district between the wealthy Jack Mulligan (Colin Farell; The Lobster), a man whose family has held the role for generations, and a local crime boss named Jamal Manning (Brian Tyree Henry; Atlanta). Manning’s money was taken and destroyed in the failed heist so he and his enforcer (Daniel Kaluuya; Get Out) hold Neeson’s wife Veronica (Viola Davis; The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby) responsible for the two million dollars. Veronica stumbles onto her husband’s plans for his next heist and rallies the wives of the other men who died to steal enough money to pay off Manning and support themselves.

The script, written by McQueen and Gillian Flynn (Gone Girl), emphasizes the cunning of each character and, in particular, the resourcefulness of the leading women. Despite their complete lack of criminal history the women are able to trick and manipulate others to get the tools they need, even with Manning’s threats looming over them. The logical leap from being in mourning of their husbands to committing armed robbery is never fully addressed, but the film moves quickly over this detail and lets the more exciting prep and execution take priority.

Davis manages to give her character a believable frailty beneath her hardened expressions.

Davis leads the cast in a commanding performance. As the ringleader of the would-be criminals, she is uncompromising in her demands. She organizes the heist with an iron fist, but is not unfeeling. McQueen balances her tough exterior with flashbacks to tender moments between her and her husband. Davis exemplifies both the grief of someone who has suddenly lost their partner as well as the harsh pragmatism of someone in a life or death scenario. Her strength is only rivalled by Kaluuya’s character. As Jamal’s brother, he does the dirty work his sibling can’t be associated with. Less sadistic than annoyed and impatient with the people preventing him from completing his goals, he is vicious with his actions. His cold brutality is repeatedly reinforced, but is best highlighted in a unexpectedly involving scene where he lets two failed henchmen continue rapping before exacting his punishment. The sole lemon is Farrell whose natural speaking voice cripples his best efforts. The bizarre result of his attempt at an American accent is continually distracting since his character is supposed to be a local, making him the most Irish sounding “6th generation Chicagoan” you’ll ever hear.

Never one to shy away from violence onscreen, McQueen brings a welcome intensity. The opening heist quickly establishes his knack for vivid set pieces when allowed a larger budget to work with. The film also greatly benefits from his and cinematographer Sean Bobbitt’s framings. Like in 12 Years a Slave, when an extreme scene is about to play out, be it a murder or a difficult conversation, the camera will often look away from action, letting our imaginations take over. This technique is more unsettling and effective than simply showing the action as it makes the viewer a participant and forces us to speculate on what must be happening just offscreen. It’s unlikely to win an Oscar due to its genre, but Steve McQueen’s Widows is a intense and exciting heist film led by a group of strong performances.

4/5 stars.

The Killing of a Sacred Deer (2017): Threats, Mistakes, and Inexplicable Illness

Yorgos Lanthimos is not a normal person. His debut film, Dogtooth, centered on a family whose children were brainwashed into believing cats were vicious predators and that the outside world was uninhabitable. His most recent movie, The Lobster, was about a man sent to a facility where he had to find a partner or else he would be turned into an animal. As strange as they may sound, each of his films is centered on a high concept. His first was about societal norms, The Lobster was about the overlooked ridiculousness of courtship, and The Killing of a Sacred Deer is about trust during a family crisis. Steven (Colin Firth; The Lobster) is a heart surgeon who spends time with Martin (Barry Keoghan; Dunkirk), the 16-year old son of a man that died during an operation. After Martin meets Steven’s family, he decides Steven must pay for the death of his father. He claims a series of illnesses will strike Steven’s wife Anna (Nicole Kidman; Lion) and their son and daughter unless Steven makes an impossible choice.

Lanthimos continues the style seen in The Lobster but with a thriller twist. Characters still speak in the same monotone with a deliberately anti-naturalist cadence. This can still lead to laughter at the sheer morbidity flowing from each deadpan delivery. Martin’s threats are spoken like a reading from a number from a phonebook, slow, clear, and punctuated. He becomes a dangerous presence despite his size. He makes no physical aggressions and maintains a withdrawn posture. He seems resigned to the fate of Stevens family, not excited by it, and is completely stoic, often trying to present logical reasoning for why they must suffer. Keoghan, an Irish actor, maintains complete control of his body language and takes Martin from a potential red flag to an enigma of potentially sadistic capability.

The camera’s distance emphasizes the insignificance of the characters.

The film’s world feels sterile and foreboding. Lanthimos tracks his characters like Kubrick in the famous tricycle scene from The Shining but places his camera at a curiously elevated height with wide angle lenses. The camera, perched near the ceiling, looms over its subjects, making them tiny figures in a pristine, but cold and empty world. The hallways of Steven’s hospital are cavernous with rooms that dwarf the staff and patients. Lanthimos adds to this atmosphere with his use of music. The soundtrack uses heavy groans from a piano and violin screeches. Everything in the production hints at the ominous nature of the events to come.

The genre of the film is as inexplicable as its narrative. It features laugh out loud moments as characters bluntly and dryly describe their situation, flashes of body horror, but, more than anything, a creeping paranoia. Like with the family from last year’s The Witch, when the kids suddenly fall ill, distrust begins to grow. What is happening and how? What are they willing to do to stop it? Farrell and Kidman’s relationship goes from loving, or at least whatever loving means in a Lanthimos film, to jagged and explosive. There are no clear answers about on what is going on and what should happen next. Instead, their suspicion breeds desperation as we witness how quickly – and violently – a family unit can be upended by an outside force.

4/5 stars.