It should become fairly obvious within the first couple of minutes of Cut Bank that director Matt Shakman really digs the Coen Brothers' Fargo. In fact, Shakman directed some of the recent TV series and brings some of that pulpy Midwest vibe to the film, which features a gaggle of homespun characters in various states of cultural stagnation. While the mood is dead on perfect and the cast fit their roles well, Cut Bank is let down by a screenplay that is cobbled together from so many better films it never achieves a unique identity.
There's plenty of talent to go around, and
it starts with youthful stars Liam Hemsworth and Teresa Palmer, who play young
lovers Dwayne and Cassandra. The lovestruck pair can't wait to get out of
gloomy, stuck-in-time Cut Bank, MT, which proudly claims to be the
"coldest spot in the nation". It's a distinction that fits the chilly
mood of the farming town where everybody is looking for a way to get ahead. And
so Dwayne cooks up a scheme that's doomed for unintended complications and
consequences. Bruce Dern plays a local mailman who is murdered within sight of
Dwayne's camera, kicking off an investigation that wakes up the sleepy little
town. It's the first murder they've ever seen, which also means it's the first
for the sheriff (John Malkovich), who can't stand being near dead bodies. Billy
Bob Thornton is Cassandra's stern father, a "big fish in a small
pond" who throws his weight around because everyone's too polite to tell
him otherwise.
The film finds its best moments when
exploring the niceties of Midwestern society, which can be both endearing and
highly annoying. Malkovich's timid sheriff, who learns a thing or two about big
city violence, resembles Tommy Lee Jones' character from No Country for Old
Men. Oliver Platt plays a boisterous inspector from DC who arrives and babbles
on about the food, "The best peach cobbler is in hospital food
courts" and how terrible the Beltway can be, "It's dirty, stressful,
angry, corrupt, and expensive." But the biggest problem, and the greatest
example of the misplaced tone of Roberto Patino's script, comes from Michael
Stuhlbarg's stupefyingly bad performance as town weirdo, Derby Milton. With his
bugged-out glasses, greasy hair and hat, he waddles in and out of each scene,
stuttering "I want my p-p-p-parcel'. Whether he was intended to resemble a
homicidal version of Stephen Root's Milton from Office Space is unclear but that was the
comical result. It's like he had been locked up in Storage Room B for 30 years
and was suddenly set free to murder and maim. Even as he draws bloodshed on his
intended victims in search of his missing p-p-p-parcel, we never take their
deaths seriously. We can't, and Cut
Bank needs us to take each
killing seriously and recognize Derby as a threat. Sorry, no can do. 
However, Milton's presence is funny enough
that it helps us forget how bland the rest of the film is. There are some big
laughs to be found when the welcoming (and nosy) townspeople constantly ask
"Aren't you Derby Milton?" even when it's obvious he's come to commit
violence. They just can't set their Midwest charm aside even for a moment.
But it's hard to figure what the overall point is supposed to be? Is it
that small town life is constantly being encroached on by the violent nature of
the big city? That would be a fine point to make if the characters were
anything more than familiar archetypes and Cut
Bank more than just a generic
exercise in pulp fiction.
Rating: 2.5 out of 5
