Perhaps nobody is better than the Coen Brothers at making movies
about poor men doing desperate things to attain wealth. They've made an art
form out of it, sometimes taking a comic route in doing so, while other times
delving into the grizzly darkness of the soul. The Coens may not have had
anything to do with David Mackenzie's neo-Western heist film Hell or High Water, but
their fingerprints are all over it in terms of style, which effortlessly skips
between madcap and brutal, and with its assortment of colorful characters of
Texas-sized personality. It may be more of a Coen Brothers movie than they've
made in a long time, and surely is more enjoyable.
Mackenzie may not
be a name you're familiar with, but it's time for that to change. He's the
director who introduced us to Jack O'Connell with the intense, no b.s. prison
drama Starred Up, and his approach here is just as much an in-your-face
experience. It's a film of small-town heroes, and heroes in a small Texas town
don't tend to be the local Sheriffs. They're the ones on the opposite side of
the law, sticking it to the rich fat cats who have made a simple blue collar
existence an unattainable fantasy. Chris Pine and Ben Foster play bank-robbing
brothers Toby and Tanner, who have a plan to score some cash to save their
family farm. But it's more than that; their crusade is as much about vengeance
as wealth. Their heists, like the one that kicks off the film, are amateurish
at best..."Ya'll are new to this", a bank clerk (Dale Dickie,
southern twang dialed up to 11) boldly tells the armed siblings. She's right,
but their plans beyond the robberies are pretty slick. The cash they steal is
then laundered, thanks to an abundance of Native American casinos in the area,
then used to pay off the debts held by the banks they just robbed.
Now THAT is what
you call sticking it to "the Man", and the locals are willing to put
up with the inconvenience of a little bank robbery if the only money being
stolen is the banks'. Unfortunately, the Texas Rangers aren't quite so
charitable. The second duo involved in this messy situation are grizzled,
nearly-retired sheriff Marcus (Jeff Bridges), an ornery, racist cuss who repeatedly
pokes at his half-Native American/half Mexican partner Alberto (Gil
Birmingham). Screenwriter Taylor Sheridan, following up on his excellent Sicario screenplay, saves much of his whip
smart banter for Marcus and Alberto, who trade barbs so stinging it may look
like they despise one another. However as the film proceeds along we see that's
not the case; there's genuine affection and respect there. If you've ever heard
someone say, "I kid because I love", then the relationship between
the two cops is a perfect example of exactly that.
Sheridan puts us
in a predicament where we have a tough time choosing who to root for. Honestly,
there are no true villains here, at least not at first. The brothers have a
cause they deem to be a worthy, righteous one, and the people of that town
support them wholeheartedly. In one terrific scene a waitress (played by
Eastbound & Down's Katy Mixon) repeatedly stymies Marcus' attempts to
secure a $200 tip she received from Toby, partly because she needs the money
and second because she doesn't want to help the people. While saving the farm
from foreclosure is paramount to the brothers, Toby's concerns extend to the
needs of his family, to make sure the next generation never has to struggle the
way he's had to. Tanner, an unpredictable wild card, is a lifelong criminal who
initially seems to be in on it just for the money and action. Over time we see
that it's about something else entirely, something more personal. Our
understanding of these characters continues to unfold throughout; amazing
considering the familiar confines of the genre the film finds itself in and is
more than willing to embrace.
In its depth of
characters and understanding of the impact decades of poverty can have on
people today, Hell or High
Water is more than just
another movie about cops and robbers. In solemn tones it pines for an era in
which outlaws ran wild and lived long enough to spend the money they stole.
In another beautiful, insightful exchange Alberto talks about his Native
American people, and how they had everything stolen from them, and now the
people of today have had everything stolen from them, only it's by guys in
suits sitting behind desks. Performances are strong all around with Bridges
settling into a Rooster Cogburn gruffness, while Foster is once again called on
to play a loose cannon, something he's quite good at. Pine was the question
mark for me as he's not a particular favorite (Okay, I think he's boring as old
dry toast) but the sensitivity he brings to the role of Toby is exactly what it
called for. He doesn't really fit in this world of guns and ten-gallon hats;
he's just trying to make the most of a bad situation. And we can't leave
Birmingham out of the discussion, either. As Alberto he's called upon to be the
target of Marcus' remarks but as we see later on he's also carrying a
tremendous amount of pain from past tragedies inflicted upon his people. We
don't realize how crucial he is to the story until a key moment much later on.
Don't ask about women because they don't play much of a role, which is typical
for Westerns. If there's a stand-out female turn it's by an old, crusty
waitress at a steak joint who doesn't take any guff from anybody. She's played
by Margaret Bowman who after appearances in The
Lone Ranger, Bernie, No Country for Old Men, and Walker, Texas Ranger might as well be part of the Lone
Star scenery.
Hell or High Water
goes out guns blazing in exactly the fashion a film like this should. What's
impressive is that the Scottish-born Mackenzie has such a firm grasp on
American culture, both its past and contemporary context. He's made a film that
is as American as they come; a pure Texas thrill ride that is vitally relevant
and yet wildly entertaining.
Rating: 4.5 out of 5
