Movie Review for Before The Devil Knows You're Dead
Before the Devil Knows You're Dead is one of those types of movies that you never really pay attention to when it's released in theaters; those types that you only rub a chin at only after it has sneaked its way into your Netflix queue by some curious relative. It's the type of movie that you spend its entire living-room-showing pondering and scratching your head on what to make of it: heads or tails?
Being named after a rather devilish Irish saying, this little diddy tells the tale of two brothers: Andy Hanson (Phillip Seymour Hoffman) and Hank Hansen (Ethan Hawke). Both of them hard up for some much needed cash--Andy because of a vaccation-hungry wife (Marisa Tomei), some embezzlement issues, and a slightly nettlesome heroin addiction, and Hank because of God-knows-what--they decide to rob a mom-n-pop jewelry store. However, this isn't just any joe-schmo, run-of-the-mill mom-n-pop jewelry store; it is actually owned by the brothers' own parents, an opportunity that they deem to be too easy to pass up. Enlisting some shady help from a fellow criminal, Hank attempts to execute the so-called "harmless" heist only to muck it up into a free-for-all catastrophe of horror, guilt, and one dead mom.
Right off the bat, the story begins with a lubricious sex-scene and some exciting crime-induced bloodshed. While it peters off from there, it swells back up occasionally through what seems to be an incessant montage of flashbacks. This sort of non-linear storytelling can often times be relentlessly climactic, but it seems here to be a somewhat contrivance; as if the writers were trying to snare some Pulp Fiction, or Memento flare for their own. Quite honestly, I adored the plot and premise, but found the whole time-traveling device to be redundant and completely unnecessary. Every time the story was getting thicker and juicier, it skidded to a halt only to return to a previous time and from a different character's perspective. I felt myself being sucked out of any hope of immersion each time. Despite this, I traversed the entire two hours holding a keen liking for the script and dialog, suspending whatever time-travel annoyances to the wind. Until the ending, of course. With the same sort of slack-jaw, drop-cliff ending that No Country for Old Men kicked us in the nuts with, it simply stops. It doesn't end; it just stops. In the end, the credits rolled and so did my eyes. Nothing but tails for the story.
While I can only stutter spastic statements of appraisal for the past works of Sydney Lumet (12 Angry Men, Serpico, Dog Day Afternoon), I find myself somewhat irritated by his cinematography in this flick. He shot it with high definition video, which while eye-popping and even mesmerizing at times, didn't bolster the movie into the cohesive package I would have liked to have seen. Instead, I couldn't help but feel like I was watching a prolonged episode of some high-budget, primetime TV show. The musical score didn't sit well with me either; it melodied when it shouldn't have, kept silent when it wasn't supposed to, and didn't completely fit the atmosphere of the movie. All in all, the AV department gets a tails.
Big time heads, however, goes to the acting. Phillip Seymour Hoffman does the same sorts of things that he tends to do here: give an amazing performance. He certainly showed his acting diversity and proved to me that he by no means should ever be typecast out of villainous roles. Ethan Hawke offered up a dutiful performance, though I would have liked to have seen more spastic subservience to his brother and a little more face-clawing guilt for his mother. Marissa Tomei was a joy to see, though it was mostly because the times she did show up, it was without clothes. Besides that, her acting was adequate, however, when contrasted with Hoffman's performance, she seemed to be little more than a presence.
All in all, I feel that the acting and first 99% of the story couldn't save this flick. After rolling around its edge a couple of times, this coin just flopped over, heads first.
Being named after a rather devilish Irish saying, this little diddy tells the tale of two brothers: Andy Hanson (Phillip Seymour Hoffman) and Hank Hansen (Ethan Hawke). Both of them hard up for some much needed cash--Andy because of a vaccation-hungry wife (Marisa Tomei), some embezzlement issues, and a slightly nettlesome heroin addiction, and Hank because of God-knows-what--they decide to rob a mom-n-pop jewelry store. However, this isn't just any joe-schmo, run-of-the-mill mom-n-pop jewelry store; it is actually owned by the brothers' own parents, an opportunity that they deem to be too easy to pass up. Enlisting some shady help from a fellow criminal, Hank attempts to execute the so-called "harmless" heist only to muck it up into a free-for-all catastrophe of horror, guilt, and one dead mom.
Right off the bat, the story begins with a lubricious sex-scene and some exciting crime-induced bloodshed. While it peters off from there, it swells back up occasionally through what seems to be an incessant montage of flashbacks. This sort of non-linear storytelling can often times be relentlessly climactic, but it seems here to be a somewhat contrivance; as if the writers were trying to snare some Pulp Fiction, or Memento flare for their own. Quite honestly, I adored the plot and premise, but found the whole time-traveling device to be redundant and completely unnecessary. Every time the story was getting thicker and juicier, it skidded to a halt only to return to a previous time and from a different character's perspective. I felt myself being sucked out of any hope of immersion each time. Despite this, I traversed the entire two hours holding a keen liking for the script and dialog, suspending whatever time-travel annoyances to the wind. Until the ending, of course. With the same sort of slack-jaw, drop-cliff ending that No Country for Old Men kicked us in the nuts with, it simply stops. It doesn't end; it just stops. In the end, the credits rolled and so did my eyes. Nothing but tails for the story.
While I can only stutter spastic statements of appraisal for the past works of Sydney Lumet (12 Angry Men, Serpico, Dog Day Afternoon), I find myself somewhat irritated by his cinematography in this flick. He shot it with high definition video, which while eye-popping and even mesmerizing at times, didn't bolster the movie into the cohesive package I would have liked to have seen. Instead, I couldn't help but feel like I was watching a prolonged episode of some high-budget, primetime TV show. The musical score didn't sit well with me either; it melodied when it shouldn't have, kept silent when it wasn't supposed to, and didn't completely fit the atmosphere of the movie. All in all, the AV department gets a tails.
Big time heads, however, goes to the acting. Phillip Seymour Hoffman does the same sorts of things that he tends to do here: give an amazing performance. He certainly showed his acting diversity and proved to me that he by no means should ever be typecast out of villainous roles. Ethan Hawke offered up a dutiful performance, though I would have liked to have seen more spastic subservience to his brother and a little more face-clawing guilt for his mother. Marissa Tomei was a joy to see, though it was mostly because the times she did show up, it was without clothes. Besides that, her acting was adequate, however, when contrasted with Hoffman's performance, she seemed to be little more than a presence.
All in all, I feel that the acting and first 99% of the story couldn't save this flick. After rolling around its edge a couple of times, this coin just flopped over, heads first.
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