Tracy Letts

Bug (2006)

Bug (2006)

(In French, On Cable TV, November 2019) William Friedkin is no stranger to bold movies and while Bug certainly doesn’t rank high in his filmography, it’s clearly meant to create reactions. Adapted from a theatrical play by well-known playwright Tracy Letts, the vast majority of the film takes place in a small three-room motel suite, focused on two increasingly paranoid characters egging each other on with their own conspiracy theories. It escalates to foil-lined rooms, bodily harm to take out implanted foreign objects and world-altering imaginary plots. But if you’re expecting all of this to have a tidy resolution, then calm down, because the film delights in a conclusion that blurs the lines between what happened and what didn’t. While that severely harms the film, it doesn’t really take away from Ashley Judd’s intensity and an early starring turn for the always-excellent Michael Shannon (who originated the character in its initial theatrical run) in the lead roles as they one-up their own delusions and try to find some companionship. The directing is audacious in its determination to get inside the protagonists’ minds despite a very limited setting and some very weird material. Ultimately, though, it’s hard to avoid feeling that the film loses steam as it goes on—that a tight and creepy first half devolves into an everything-goes, nothing-matters conclusion. But while the destination may be disappointing, part of the trip may be worthwhile for fans of the lead actors or the director or movies that aren’t supposed to make sense. (Although if that bothers you all that much, do what modern film critics do and claim that the film is “all about trauma” and call it an analysis.)

August: Osage County (2013)

August: Osage County (2013)

(On TV, June 2019) There is a built-in perversion of expectations in August: Osage County that is as provocative as it is frustrating. If you picture a theatrical play (or a movie) about a dysfunctional family, you already have a rough outline of how it’s going to be structured already pre-assembled in your head. The family will get together. They will exhibit the aberrant traits that make them dysfunctional. There will be shouting. Some people are likely to be punished. But as the story advances, the family will reunite, and those most sympathetic characters will get back together toward the end, having resolved some of their difficulties and being ready to make even further progress going forward. Well, take those comfortable preconceptions and throw them away, because August: Osage County ultimately goes in a very different direction, shattering family bonds until we’re left with individuals. I had been curious about this film ever since watching the uncompromising Killer Joe—both are well-regarded movies adapted by Tracy Letts from his own plays, and this one featured an ensemble cast of capable actors. Julia Roberts goes toe-to-toe with Meryl Streep, and some unusual choices such as Ewan McGregor and Benedict Cumberbatch are to be found elsewhere in the cast. This is definitely an actor’s film, guided along with the pen of a professional playwright. As such, be ready for meaty dialogue, explosive revelations, off-kilter plot development and a merciless conclusion as a family crisis featuring a disappeared patriarch brings people home and detonates repressed fault lines in their relationships. It’s often very darkly funny, with extreme actions and language (Roberts hasn’t sworn as much on-screen since Mystic Pizza). While I enjoyed much of the film on a word-for-word basis, the ending did not sit right with me for a while—until I played around with it and realize how much it upended traditional expectations about how that kind of movie is supposed to go. But as I re-read my review a few weeks after watching the film, I’m somewhat more sympathetic toward what it manages to achieve, and honestly think that being forewarned is being better prepared to appreciate it when it comes. Do not expect a final weepy get-together—August: Osage County isn’t that kind of film.

Killer Joe (2011)

Killer Joe (2011)

(On Cable TV, December 2013) Matthew McConaughey’s recent career renewal has been a beautiful thing to watch ever since The Lincoln Lawyer and it reaches an apogee of sorts here within this pitch-black Texan crime thriller.  Though sometimes billed as a comedy, Killer Joe is more lurid than funny, as it features a deeply dysfunctional family plotting to kill for purely monetary gains.  Complications more than ensue when an implacable hit-man (McConaughey, deliciously evil) is brought in to execute the plan, and when the money goes missing.  Twisted, sordid, at times asphyxiating, Killer Joe is not pure entertainment as much as it’s watching a train-wreck in motion.  Sometimes in very slow motion, as the theatrical roots of Tracy Letts’ script show up most visibly in a series of lengthy dialogue-heavy scenes.  (You may hear about the fried-chicken scene and you may think you’re ready to see it as just one more thing in your jaded filmgoer’s experience, but you’re not.)  While Killer Joe ends a bit too early to earn a satisfying pay-off, there’s no denying the skill with which veteran director William Friedkin puts together the film, or the talent of the actors having fun with their slummy characters.  Emile Hirsch is particularly credible as a dim-witted wannabe hustler who gets outplayed by everyone, while Gina Gershon gets the least-glamorous role as the fried-chicken-gobbler. (And now I feel dirty for having written this, and I haven’t even mentioned the twisted sex-slavery plot device.)  Unpleasant yet fascinating, crafty and exploitative at once, Killer Joe may best be considered as showing how far McConaughey has gone from his beach-bum rom-com persona… and how good he is at playing dark.