The Proposition (2005)

John Hillcoat's The Proposition (2005) is a strange, heavily stylized Aussie Western. Its elliptical storytelling both fascinates and frustrates, sublimating thin story and characters to beautiful scenery and violence. Whatever its sins, it's certainly a unique experience.

English lawman Captain Stanley (Ray Winstone) captures bushranger Charlie Burns (Guy Pearce) after a violent shootout. Using Charlie's brother Mickey (Richard Wilson) as persuasion, Stanley offers Charlie a pardon if he'll track down homicidal brother Arthur (Danny Huston), hiding in the Outback. Charlie accepts, disgusted by Arthur's murder of an innocent family, but becomes ambivalent upon rejoining Arthur. Meanwhile, Stanley feels pressure from landowner Fletcher (David Wenham) and his wife (Emily Watson) to punish Mickey for Arthur's crime. The two sides lurch towards a confrontation, with Charlie's loyalty the wildcard.

The Proposition is certainly seductive. Hillcoat and photographer Benoit Delhomme successfully craft a mystical, otherworldly atmosphere. The glowing sunsets, sun-baked desert and forbidding mountains are breathtakingly unreal, more Picnic at Hanging Rock than The Searchers. This contrasts well with the muddy, ramshackle frontier towns, with Stanley and wife holding a Christmas dinner amidst the Outback. He mixes this scenic beauty with grisly violence, including a stomping death, machete decapitations and a bloody flogging. Throw a haunting Nick Cave/Warren Ellis score and you have a peculiarly resonant film.

While many Aussie Westerns play off American archetypes, The Proposition heavily deconstructs them. Captain Stanley is established as a tough lawman but folds under pressure, be it the callow Fletcher, a lynch mob or his vengeful wife. He doesn't even get the dignity of a showdown with Arthur. Charlie has several run-ins with Jellon Lamb (John Hurt), a wily bounty hunter who's a drunken racist. Hillcoat shows tension between "civilized" and "renegade" Aborigines, caught in a brutal "police action" with atrocities on both sides. Compared with this lot the conflicted Charlie and poetic Arthur seem almost heroic.

But The Proposition's mythic craftsmanship ultimately feels hollow. The characters act like Greek tragedians, each driving towards inexorable fates. They don't seem real or fully realized; they're too knowingly mythic, lacking in motivation or sympathetic qualities. Nick Cave's script lingers on gruesome set pieces more than story coherence, with interesting threads lost in the shuffle. For all his opaqueness Hillcoat falls back on cliche when convenient. The awkwardly contrived finale (not unlike 3:10 to Yuma) proves especially unsatisfactory.

Guy Pearce broods excessively well, all worried scowls and rangy physicality. Danny Huston (John Adams) steals the show as a chillingly philosophical psychopath. Emily Watson (War Horse) registers strongly in a thankless role while Aborigine actors David Gulpilli (Australia) and Tom E. Lewis shine. On the negative ledger, Ray Winstone is too passive to earn much sympathy, while David Wenham (Public Enemies) never rises above Snidley Whiplash levels. John Hurt (A Man for All Seasons) contributes a strange cameo.

If The Proposition isn't fully satisfying, it's still an intriguing movie. Certainly its combination of mystical atmosphere and savage violence leaves an impression.

Lawless

 

John Hillcoat's Lawless (2012) is an agreeably old-fashioned crime flick. Purportedly based on a true story, it eschews moral ambiguity for cops-and-robbers antics - with a slant towards the robbers. Far from perfect, it's still plenty of good-ol'-boy fun.

Franklin County, Virginia is America's "wettest county" during the heyday of Prohibition, with seemingly everyone making and selling moonshine. Biggest of all are the Bondurants: Howard (Jason Clarke), a hotheaded nut bar; Forrest (Tom Hardy), a hulking hillbilly believed to be indestructible; and Jack (Shia Labeouf), the pipsqueak youngest brother. Eager to prove himself, Jack enters into a business deal with Syndicate crook Floyd Banner (Gary Oldman) and brings the gang untold riches. But they're soon squaring off with Charlie Rakes (Guy Pearce), a preening, gleefully crooked Prohibition agent unleashing Federal hell on the moonshiners.

Lawless is the filmic grandson of Jesse James and Bonnie and Clyde, taking the virtues of back country bandits for granted. Hillcoat enjoys stacking the tight-knit Bondurants, decent folk driven into crime by Prohibition, against the gleefully corrupt Rakes and near-psychotic Banner. Big city corruption and violence is contrasted with rural virtues, though ex-dancer Maggie (Jessica Chastain) finds Franklin County no quieter than Chicago. The film's "crime does pay" message is wickedly non-PC, albeit tempered with violence and bitter irony.

Hillcoat makes Lawless a treat to watch, from Benoit Delhomme's beautiful photography to impeccable period detail. The movie makes excellent use of sound editing (a cacophonous Quaker meeting, Howard's unearthly warning howl) and a bluegrass soundtrack. The action scenes are brutal and blunt, mercifully free of handheld stylization. The best is a chase scene/shootout in the Bondurant still, with brutal fisticuffs and shotgun pellets pinging off liquor vats. Ghoulish touches predominate, like Forrest's gift for Rakes or a bootlegger being tarred and feathered.

The movie works best in developing Jack, a self-loathing runt who reinvents himself as a hardened criminal. He's a wimp who allows to Rakes beat him senseless and gets kidded by his brothers. He never grows a taste for violence, but his business sense, courage and cleverness give him the makings of a professional mobster. He finds another sort of maturity, too, in his relationship with preacher's daughter Betsy (Mia Wasikowska). Still he needs help from the enigmatic, indestructible Forrest, who's none too pleased by his little brother's antics. 

Unfortunately Lawless isn't the sum of its parts. Nick Cave's lumpen screenplay indulges in cliches and scenic meandering, the plot becoming lost in good ol' boy antics and atmospheric touches. The supporting cast is poorly drawn (especially the females) and the romance scenes exist mostly to kill time between violence. Certainly some elements inspire incredulity, "based on a true story" or not; it's hard to swallow Forrest enduring his treatment here with a mere disapproving grunt.

I've always thought Shia Labeouf a fine actor when not straight-jacketed into Sam Witwicky shtick. He's just about perfect playing a callow kid-turned-hardened gangster. Tom Hardy, ever-versatile, effectively mixes corn pone wisdom with brutal violence. Jessica Chastain (The Debt) is fetching but Mia Wasikowska proves unbearably twee. Guy Pearce (The King's Speech) plays his cartoon villain with relish, changing gloves after a brutal beating and pounding hapless kids. Third-billed Gary Oldman gets a colorful cameo.

In spite of its vices, Lawless is an enjoyable film. Its style and straightforward presentation give it an irresistible old-school charm. And hey, maybe we can finally give Shia Labeouf a break.