Scott Cooper

  • Antlers (2021)

    (On Cable TV, September 2022) Despite my contrarian nature, how much of the discourse about cultural appropriation have I really internalized? I had a surprising answer in watching Antlers. For many, the film will come with high expectations by dint of pedigree—after all, it’s produced by Guillermo del Toro and David S. Goyer. Not that those producing credits mean a lot when both seem to produce 2–3 titles a year in addition to their own movies. A far more sobering name pops up as a director: Scott Cooper, a former actor who has built a filmography of respectable but glum and overly serious genre work. This should be a warning about Antlers, because what shows up on-screen is almost entirely devoid of wonder, humour and entertainment: it’s a super-serious horror film delving into the legend of Wendigo possession, with some impressively gory special effects in depicting the transformation of a human victim into their monstrous form. And this is where I have surprising issues with the movie. I’m not going to seriously propose that the wendigo myth should be reserved for First Nations or Native American creators—especially not the weirdly Xenomorph-inspired overdone variant shown in Antlers (heck, even Wikipedia points out that antlers are not part of the original Wendigo legend). Nor will I quibble too much about a Pacific Northwestern-set story taking on a myth from First Nations located much further east. But I will point out that there is something incredibly wasteful in having a story dealing with a monster as a metaphor for childhood abuse generational trauma and not having First Nation or Native American characters. The metaphor is right there—why not use it? Granted, I have seen more First Nations horror movies than the average bear (it’s practically mandated viewing here in Canada), but there’s something so misguided in Antlers that, when combined with the film’s sombre and plodding atmosphere, that I didn’t get much enjoyment out of the result. I do like seeing Keri Russell (not so much Jesse Plemons, even if I’m warming up to him), but Antlers could have been much, much better with just a slight realignment of protagonists and casting. (Graham Greene barely shows up.) Otherwise, it remains a monster film that goes out of its way to be as un-fun, restrained and solemn as possible, while not really digging into the so-called elevated horror (read; socially conscious) potential that it had. Guillermo! Sell the rights for a Canadian remake right now!

  • Hostiles (2017)

    Hostiles (2017)

    (In French, On TV, April 2020) On paper, Hostiles has some exceptional elements to play with—written and directed by Scott Cooper, starring Christian Bale, Rosamund Pike and Wes Studi, with a story that follows an army officer escorting a Cheyenne chief across dangerous territory in the 1890s. In intent, it’s determined to be a revisionist western, with an adequately nuanced look at the Native American characters. Bale, Pike and Studi are as good as ever, while Cooper gets some great landscapes to showcase along the journey. Plus, there are pre-stardom roles for Timothée Chalamet, Jesse Plemons and Jonathan Majors. But while the result is a respectable dramatic western, it’s not a great film, nor is it as great as it thinks it is—and this is hardly the first Cooper film to suffer from that kind of hubris. The elements are there, but something is missing from the result. Maybe fun, maybe humility.

  • Out of the Furnace (2013)

    Out of the Furnace (2013)

    (On Cable TV, January 2016) There’s an acknowledged dearth of mainstream realistic adult dramas in today’s cinematic landscape, but I’ll gladly watch a stream of escapist superhero fantasies if the alternative is feeling like slitting my wrists. Unusually dull and sombre films such as Out of the Furnace aren’t the antidote when they’re paralyzed by so much unbearable self-importance. Taking place in the rusted ruins of American industry, it features two down-on-their-luck brothers trying to fit in a world that doesn’t want them once they’ve gone to prison or to war. Out of the Furnace is never a cheerful film, but it gets steadily worse as the protagonists are pushed in increasingly desperate situations. Director Scott Cooper does know how to handle such a film—alas, the material he’s serving isn’t meant for casual consumption. Christian Bale is fine yet not particularly remarkable as the lead, while Casey Affleck is more memorable, but also less likable, as his brother. There are many familiar actors in smaller roles. The dour tone of Out of the Furnace carries through the ending, which almost comes as a relief given how badly we want to get away from this place.