Before the Devil Knows You're Dead

Caution: Spoilers.

Director Sidney Lumet's 2007 cinematic swan song, BEFORE THE DEVIL KNOWS YOU'RE DEAD is a relentlessly downbeat two hours of tedium that is not distinguished enough to be worth the bother. Especially from a director of Lamet's stature. As with the film's plot, the film itself seems an awful lot of trouble leading nowhere, or at least somewhere we've been one too many times.

First off, several minutes should've been trimmed. This would've eliminated redundant scenes and tightened the tension. Admittedly, there's plenty of tension and portent, but it is worked against by the film's tendency to underline its points with extras we didn't need. One of the film's main characters, Andy Hanson (Philip Seymour Hoffman), is established as a hulking mess of a man. Did we need to see multiple scenes of his visits to a drug dealer to confirm his excesses? One potent scene would've been enough. This one thread is indicative of the movie's excesses. I don't mind having my face rubbed in the grime, but repeated baptisms in it (without shedding any new light on the characters) only tries my patience. What could we expect, though, when the very first scene graphically shows Andy making love to his sad wife, Gina (Marissa Tomei). It sets the dubious tone of this picture. Why are we:

a.) seeing this at all?

b.) being treated to a choice angle of rear entry intercourse? Is this establishing anything relevant?

This film's willingness to embrace the lurid so readily reminded me of another great director's misfire: Martin Scorsese's CASINO. In one scene, a guy's head is squeezed into a vice; we see it all, including popping eyeballs. The point would've been made without the lingering lens. Our minds are capable of much more. What separates this scene from the thousands of others in grade Z exploitation pics?

Allow me to cry against high definition video once again as well. The artificiality of the "look" of BEFORE THE DEVIL KNOWS YOU'RE DEAD kept me at arm's length from start to finish. It was another very revealing exercise for me, confirming that if the atmosphere isn't right, little to nothing else matters. Oscar worthy screenplay, acting, direction are for naught if the filmmakers can't immerse me in their manufactured world. If you've read my past reviews, this rant is nothing new. For comparison, witness the crisp and stark cinematography of Lumet's great THE VERDICT. The lighting choices, the hues, the instrinsic appearance of celluloid really fleshes out Frank Galvin's story, which also has a marvelous screenplay by David Mamet. HD video just can't capture the right mood, in my opinion. My take will certainly be in the minority among younger viewers, especially those who've never seen a pristine 35mm print of an older (50s and earlier) title in a moviehouse.

But it's so true. It may seem so surface, so technical, so "form over substance". But the form is the substance for cinema. The canvas is as much an indicator of worth as are the aforementioned elements. I have given a pass to films that didn't "put me there", but BEFORE THE DEVIL's problematic storyline and execution only adds to my central dilemma. But what about this story...?

Desperation drives the successful and ne'er do well character alike to often unspeakable actions, ones that might've seemed unthinkable even a moment prior. In the closing scenes of BEFORE THE DEVIL KNOWS YOU'RE DEAD, Andy finds himself making larger messes while attempting to clean up earlier ones, and not just his own. His brother Hank (Ethan Hawke) has botched an allegedly foolproof plan and the fallout just keeps coming.

Plan? It sounds so airtight. The Hansons' parents own a suburban jewelry store. Andy, a white collar finance executive (about to face an audit) one day pitches an idea: since both brothers have crippling debt, why not rob the store? The insurance will cover the losses. Can't miss. Classic noir set-up. Even with careful planning, every detail is to go awry. Their mother was not supposed to be in the store. The stick-up guy Hank hires is a psycho. Guns are drawn.

The film tells its story with non-linearity, a device whose novelty has long since passed. BEFORE THE DEVIL treats it as if it is novel, trying to intrigue the audience the way say, PULP FICTION did 13 years earlier. In fact, the surmounting dread would've been far more effective if Lumet had made this an A to Z. He should've done an old school, no frills narrative. How fine it would've been for him to bow with such a throwback. Instead, we get a fragmented mess of a film that simply becomes a bout of endurance.

Why didn't I care about the characters and their predicaments? It isn't merely because I didn't much like them, as that should never be a criteria for objective film criticism. Hoffman once again sets the screen ablaze with powerhouse acting, and Hawke is also effective as the pathetic Hank. Albert Finney is perfect and perfectly cast as their father who gradually learns the truth, leading to a predictable climax. Turns out dad always favored Hank over Andy, etc. I wasn't invested because the entire scenario just felt like a screenwriter's exercise, a dung hill of contrivances. Sorry, Mr. Lumet.

Part XIII, The Great Overrated