Lawless

[Sonic Youth]

Lawless: Cannes Review
by David Rooney
Hollywood Reporter

CANNES – After proving to be a problematic fit for the grim post-apocalyptic existentialism of The Road, director John Hillcoat is back on more fertile turf with Lawless, a muscular slice of grisly Americana rooted in flavorful Prohibition-era outlaw legend. While a touch overlong and not as distinctive as his last collaboration with screenwriter Nick Cave, the Australian Western The Proposition, the new film is more commercially accessible, fueled by a brooding sense of dread, visceral bursts of violence, potent atmosphere and some juicy character portraits from a robust cast.

The nominal lead figure in the dark ensemble drama is Jack Bondurant, probably the most standard role but one that yields more accomplished work than pretty much anything Shia LaBoeuf has done to date. However, it’s the characters around Jack that supply much of the texture, notably his brothers, the taciturn, philosophizing Forrest (Tom Hardy) and hooch-swilling punisher Howard (Jason Clarke). No less vital contributions come from Guy Pearce as a corrupt, dandified lawman, who has no qualms about spilling blood so long as it doesn’t splash his bespoke suits, and Gary Oldman in a brief but lip-smacking turn as Chicago bobster Floyd Banner.

Adding welcome softer notes are gifted up-and-comer Dane DeHaan as Cricket, a crippled kid whose magic touch produces superior moonshine; Mia Wasikowska as Bertha, a strict preacher’s daughter with a rebellious streak; and Jessica Chastain as Maggie, an emotionally bruised burlesque dancer looking for a quiet life away from the mean city and stumbling instead on a whole other kettle of brutality in the backwoods.

Inspired by The Wettest County in the World, Matt Bondurant’s 2008 fictionalized account of his bootlegging ancestors’ exploits in 1930s Franklin, Va., the story puts Cave right smack in his element. An artist who has always been drawn to the romance of bloodshed, crime and death, the goth troubadour might just as easily have plucked this tale from his brilliant 1996 album of distilled narratives, Murder Ballads.

A prologue accompanied by copious voiceover from Jack dips into the self-styled legend of the Bondurant boys. They are believed to be indestructible, particularly Forrest, who survived the flu that killed their parents. As a lad, Jack is revealed to be the runt of the litter. His failure to comply with his tough siblings’ order to put a bullet in a hog unnecessarily telegraphs the task he is destined to fulfill in the final bloodbath. But Hillcoat and Cave seem happy to lift from the classics playbook.

The main action begins in 1931. The now-grown Bondurant brothers run a thriving bootlegging operation in the mountains, one of many outfits supplying quality hooch to the county -- whites, blacks, civilians and lawmen alike. But up north in gangster-land, a crime wave is sweeping the nation, its tentacles inevitably reaching Virginia.

Wanting a slice of the moonshine profits, the crooked commonwealth attorney dispatches Special Deputy Charlie Rakes (Pearce), a vicious, perfumed snake who makes no effort to hide his disdain for these hicks. But Forrest makes it clear the Bondurants won’t lie down for anybody, delivering his message with a persuasive combination of knuckleduster and contempt. That sets up he and Rakes as instant nemeses. Forrest also resists overtures from other local bootleggers to comply with the new “law,” insisting on staying solo. That stance combined with Cricket’s high-grade brew helps the brothers prosper.

Running parallel to the encroaching friction with Rakes is the more prosaic strand of Jack’s efforts to earn his big brothers’ respect and become a legitimate player in their operation. His opportunity comes while Forrest is laid up with a fresh Frankenstein scar across his throat from where Rakes’ goons sliced him open. Jack gets a lucky break in a near-fatal encounter with Floyd Banner’s men, among them a nasty stooge played by Noah Taylor. Jack’s cut of the deal allows him to purchase a snazzy auto and sharp threads to help him court the pious and pretty Bertha. Meanwhile, lovely Maggie works the bar at the boys’ Blackwater Station, as she and Forrest shoot each other smoldering glances.

Aided by fluid work from editor Dylan Tichenor, Hillcoat punches the action along at an unhurried yet steady pace, expertly sustaining tension and a mood of impending menace. The inevitable showdown, after Jack’s carelessness leads Rakes to their secret distillery location, is a little too protracted, and the coda 10 years on lingers unduly. But the film maintains its suspense and compelling character engagement throughout.

Without exactly glorifying their outlaw heroes, Hillcoat and Cave definitely keep us in their corner, showing even their most violent actions to be driven by self-protection or payback, never merely by malice. The most memorable of them is somber Forrest, whose dialogue is delivered from somewhere way back in Hardy’s throat, often as barely more than an inarticulate rumble. But from in amongst those animal growls spout occasional pearls of outlaw wisdom, such as “It is not the violence that sets a man apart, it’s the distance he is prepared to go.”

Benoit Delhomme’s widescreen visuals have a handsome epic sweep. The earthy sepia tones and shadowy interiors are shuffled with crisp skies and green forestland covered with vines and tangled willows. The evocative feel for time and place is furthered by Chris Kennedy’s rustic period production design and Margot Wilson’s sharp costumes.

As in The Proposition, Cave’s contribution extends to an indispensable score, co-written with Warren Ellis. (The team also provided music for Andrew Dominik’s The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, a film that some will no doubt say the less nuanced Lawless aspires to be.) Their score here mixes rootsy bluegrass, gospel, country and contemporary songs reinterpreted by Emmylou Harris and Ralph Stanley, among others.

If Lawless doesn’t achieve the mythic dimensions of the truly great outlaw and gangster movies, it is a highly entertaining tale set in a vivid milieu, told with great style and populated by a terrific ensemble. For those of us who are suckers for blood-soaked American crime sagas from that era, those merits will be plenty.

[Sonic Youth]

Lawless
By Leslie Felperin
Variety.com

Moonshine, machismo and rivers of gore make for a heady brew in "Lawless," Australian helmer John Hillcoat's stylishly assembled Prohibition-era gangster pic, and his second American-set film after 2009's post-apocalyptic ramble "The Road." Redolent of Hillcoat's previous collaborations with musician-screenwriter Nick Cave, this classy genre piece doesn't quite leave an emotional burn in the gut the way "The Proposition" did, but for those with a strong stomach for onscreen violence, it will hit the spot. The Weinstein Co. rolls out the barrel this fall.

It's 1931, two years shy of the repeal of Prohibition, and the prolific liquor production in Franklin County, Va., has earned it the sobriquet "the wettest county in the world." That's also the title of the semi-fictional 2009 source book by Matt Bondurant, chronicling the legendary exploits of his grandfather Jack and and two great-uncles, Forrest and Howard.

A close-knit family after the Spanish flu epidemic killed off their parents and nearly took Forrest two years back, the three "difficult to kill" brothers run a deep-woods restaurant/feed store/gas station that serves as a front for their real business, distributing cases of hooch around the area. Bull-necked, basso-voiced middle son Forrest (Tom Hardy) is the brains of the operation, while shell-shocked, dipsomaniac war vet Howard (Jason Clarke) rides shotgun as backup muscle. As the youngest and least given to stabbing and beating people, Jack (Shia LaBeouf) is usually stuck in the role of driver or lookout, but longs to win his brothers' respect.

After years of keeping the local law safely in their pockets, the Bondurant boys find their apple-brandy cart upset when special deputy Charley Rakes (Guy Pearce) arrives in town from Chicago to crack down on the local trade. Of all the colorful characters the protean and ever-welcome Pearce has played, Rakes may be his most baroque creation yet: A fastidious dandy with a taste for dove-gray gloves, invisible eyebrows and hair ruthlessly parted and slicked back to make him look like Dagwood on steroids, Rakes is a total psychopath, particularly prone to violence when anyone needles his sore spot and dares to call him a nancy.

Early on in the proceedings, Rakes gives Jack a major ass-whupping, and the brothers vow revenge. The tit-for-tat tactical strikes between the two sides gradually escalate, doled out in regular screenwriting beats. One of the worst sees two of Rakes men slitting Forrest's throat (miraculously, he survives) and raping Maggie Beauford (Jessica Chastain), a former Chicago fan dancer who's now working as a waitress at the brothers' station in order to escape some never-specified problems up north.

Cave's adaptation doesn't do an entirely satisfying job of servicing all the characters and storylines. Howard isn't much more than a ghostly, civil presence throughout, and the film rather criminally underuses Gary Oldman as notorious gangster Floyd Banner, who gets a fabulous entrance but then is more or less forgotten. One is reminded that "Boardwalk Empire" has mined similar territory already, but with the luxury of 26 hours of television at its disposal to develop its characters.

The love stories -- between Forrest and Maggie, and between Jack and pixie-ish church girl Bertha (Mia Wasikowska) -- provide some sweet respite between bouts of bloodshed, but the women aren't integral to the story. Fortunately, the actresses have enough charisma, as well as two of the finest complexions in the biz, to stand up to the strong male cast.

Technical package is faultless, from Benoit Delhomme's painterly, brown-hued lensing on the new Arri Alexa digital camera and Dylan Tichenor's fluid editing to Chris Kennedy's finely textured production design. Particularly worthy of note is the subtlety of Margot Wilson's costumes; the mint-colored frock Chastain gets to wear for her entrance is cut to period specs yet right on trend for 2012, and putting Forrest in a wheat-colored cardigan to give him a professorial, almost foppish air is a small stroke of genius.

Cherry on top is an inventive score composed by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis and performed by the Bootleggers, a lineup that includes Bad Seed Martyn Casey and Groove Armada's George Vjestic; together they deliver an insinuating hillbilly-punk sound that's neither period pastiche nor anachronism, but something deliciously other. A cover of Lou Reed's "White Light/White Heat," sung by bluegrass singer Ralph Stanley, reps one of several highlights. Integrated seamlessly with the sound design and editing, the music feels of a piece with the film's impressive total effect

[Sonic Youth]

Lawless
19 May, 2012 | By Mike Goodridge
Screendaily

Dir: John Hillcoat. US. 2012. 115mins


John Hillcoat’s latest movie is a well-paced and entertaining story of bootlegging in 1931 Virginia, skillfully adapted by Nick Cave from Matt Bondurant’s 2008 novel The Wettest County In The World. But if the film will boost Hillcoat’s stock as a commercial director, it is lacking in both the poetry that infused The Proposition and The Road and the mythic quality of many other retro ‘30s gangster pictures from Bonnie And Clyde to The Untouchables.

A superb cast of hot young actors led by Shia Labeouf and Tom Hardy and the clout of The Weinstein Company, which will no doubt push it out wide in the US, will ensure strong initial returns from Lawless. But several factors will hamper its prospects in the US and internationally, from the thick, often unintelligible southern accents to the consistent and graphic violence. It is likely to perform better in arthouses than in commercial circuits, attracting upscale audiences over the teen crowd.

Bondurant’s book is based on the exploits of his grandfather Jack Bondurant and his two brothers Forrest and Howard, a trio of bootlegging siblings who ruled the illegal whisky manufacturing and distribution trade in Franklin County. The film aligns all the drama into one year – 1931 – in the height of Prohibition.

Jack (LaBeouf) is the youngster of the three, desperate to be taken seriously by his brothers and start doing some illegal runs across county lines. Witnessing Chicago gangster Floyd Banner (Oldman) mow down two cops one day, he longs for a piece of the action. Forrest (Hardy), a brooding silent type with a knuckleduster in his pocket and a head for business, runs the show, while Howard (Clarke), a giant of a man damaged in the war and perpetually drunk, is the heavy who protects the operation.

But when a new county attorney decides he wants a piece of the action, he imports an FBI agent called Charley Rakes (Pearce) to make sure all the bootleggers hand over some of their earnings to the police. Forrest won’t play ball, causing Rakes to start a war against the Bondurants. It starts with him beating Jack senseless and continues when two of his men slit Forrest’s throat.

But the Bondurants have a reputation for being invincible. Forrest survives the garroting with a scar and, while he is in hospital, Jack proves his worth by making a delivery to Floyd Banner and scoring a good price per gallon. Meanwhile Jack has his eye on a local girl Bertha (Wasikowska) and Forrest develops a grunting affection for the Maggie (Chastain), the woman who tends his gas station/bootlegging HQ.

Hillcoat moves the drama along at a brisk pace towards the inevitable confrontation between Rakes and his men and the Bondurants. Cave’s screenplay is a superb linear adaptation of a book which is anything but, tweaking facts and timelines to fit the single year scale of the film, while maintaining the key setpieces and rich characters.

The story, however, does not give Hillcoat much time for the visual or philosophical explorations that have graced his oeuvre to date. While Matt Bondurant’s book ached with the pain of Depression and natural beauty of the Virginia mountains, Hillcoat’s film plays it mainstream.

Casting, on the other hand, is excellent. Labeouf shows that he is maturing as an actor in the central role of Jack and Hardy positively oozes charisma as the uber-masculine Forrest, a cardigan clinging at all times to his enormous shoulders. The Howard role is reduced from the book to third fiddle, giving more room for the female characters and both Chastain and Wasikowska demonstrate once again why they are two of the most sought after young actresses of this generation.

Pearce, on the other hand, seems an uncomfortable fit for the Rakes character – an embodiment of several characters from the book. Fine actor though he is, his two-dimensional bad guy here doesn’t work alongside the nuances of the other characters. In fact, the right side of the law doesn’t get a good airing in Lawless which falls guilty of over-glamourising the bootlegging family right through to a corny coda in 1940. Our heroes are the sweetest ruthless killers you ever did see and anyone who comes up against them is evil personified. For all the bloody violence on show here, there is very little danger in evidence for these gangsters.