Year: 2014 (2015 U.K release)
Director: Bennett Miller
Screenplay: E. Max Frye, Dan Futterman
Starring: Channing Tatum, Steve Carrell, Mark Ruffalo
Synopsis is here
There’s a mordant sense of humour running through
Miller’s Foxcatcher that creeps up from time to time. Something you shouldn’t
think should appear and yet is quite welcoming when it does. Watching
protagonist (Tatum) strain his reasons on why winning Olympic gold is
important, to a bunch of wide eyed, befuddled children has a quiet drollness to
it. As is the twisted matter of Bennet Miller’s American true crime drama is ultimately
a Greek Tragedy of dysfunctional families, set within the world of competitive
wresting, which of course became prominent in Ancient Greece.
It’s too bad that despite having such a sense of
self, Foxcatcher is such a distancing slog to get through. It’s a film which is
competently crafted and features a trio of performances which, with their
differing areas of physicality , do raise an eyebrow from scene to scene. The
first, awkward engagement between Tatum’s Mark Schultz and his brother Dave
(Ruffalo) is such an interesting jumbled mess of sibling tension and force I
had high hopes for where the rest of the film was heading. Unfortunately, two
considerably long hours later, I found myself still no deeper than the
scratches that may have been caused during this first grapple. The tragedy
between these brothers is indeed upsetting, but Miller’s remarkably static film
did little to stir.
The film is understandably meant to be a little
cold, as the characters we follow the most are not only unlikely bedfellows,
but difficult people to engage with due to their simmering tensions between
class and family. The scene in which Steve Carrell’s John E du Pont first meets
Dave and his family is one of the more potent moments. Miller’s simple blocking
of the scene easily show the division between the blue collar yet connected
family, and the isolated aristocrat trying to purchase his way into such a warm
relationship. Such moments highlight the discomfort accordingly.
Despite this, I found myself so alienated by the
films blunt, matter of fact approach, I struggled to identify fully with the
proceedings. This is obviously not a film to “enjoy” in the typical sense, yet
at no point did my own defences go down for what was happening on the screen. The
films immensely dour approach and turgid pace overshadowed the films main
attractions: The cast.
Channing Tatum’s Mark is brusque and stoic
creature. His jutted out jaw, furrowed brow and physical stature, hides his
character’s naïve ideals which slowly seep through as the film pushes on. The
roles help show the actor’s ability to corrupt the dumb, man child nature that
many have known him for when cast the amusing Jump Street films. Mark Ruffalo;
ever the effective character actor, morphs his poise beautifully as he becomes
the film’s heart. He makes being the film only emotional link look far too easy
for his own good. The intensely creepy Du Pont has Carrell channeling his
inner Bela Lugosi to good measure. However, observing the real Du Pont, makes
the clipped mannerisms of Carrell feel a tad overblown. There’s also a feeling
that delving into the grey matter of such a troubled being is a step too far.
As such, Du Pont feels a lot like a cartoon boogeyman stuck in a high class
crime reconstruction. The heavy makeup doesn’t help matters.
Between this and Moneyball, Bennett Miller is
locating fascinating subject matter within modern sports to focus his energies
on. Foxcatcher however, does little to make me delve into the backstories of
this unfortunate event in the same way that Moneyball opened my eyes to the
modern ideas that lay within America’s favourite pastime. If I saw myself
viewing this film again, there’s a good chance I’d be tapping out early.
