THE SISTERS BROTHERS B+
France Spain Romania
USA (121 mi) 2018
‘Scope d: Jacques Audiard
An eclectic work that defies expectations, where the social
realism of French director Jacques Audiard, maker of such searingly dramatic
works as The
Beat That My Heart Skipped (De battre mon coeur s'est arête) (2005), 2010
Top Ten Films of the Year: #10 A Prophet (Un Prophète), Rust
and Bone (De rouille et d'os) (2011), and Dheepan
(2015), is traded in for his first English-speaking movie, a somewhat eccentric
yet luxuriously beautiful American western set in Oregon and California during
the Gold Rush days of 1851, tempered with humor and personality, becoming more
of a buddy movie with two oddball characters sharing the lead, the always
cantankerous Sisters brothers, Charlie and Eli, Joaquin Phoenix and John C.
Reilly, hired assassins who have developed a reputation for professionalism, as
they always get their man, yet the gist of the movie is their relentless
bickering and in-fighting that takes place along the way. Perhaps unexpectedly, we see the names of uncompromising
film directors Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne as producers, also Cristian Mungiu,
while the driving force behind the film was actor/producer John C. Reilly
securing the rights of the book, as the mournfully comic film is adapted from
Canadian author Patrick DeWitt’s 2011 historical novel that pays homage to the
unscrupulous immorality prevailing throughout the American West. In the Gold Rush era, a mad and obsessive
spirit induces “thousands of previously intelligent men and women to abandon
their families and homes forever,” but most ended up down on their luck,
demoralized and emptyhanded, as only a few realized their dreams, and even then
what wealth they obtained soon fizzled out from the inflated prices that
quickly adjusted to the gold standard. In
this fever dream of unlimited opportunity, we meet the Sisters brothers in
action, carrying out a night assault on an unlucky group of eight stuck in a
farmhouse, every one killed with ruthless precision. But it isn’t the blood or gore that stands
out, instead these two brothers have an endearing way of communicating, chatting
endlessly, as they’ll get caught up on a particular word and then hound the
other mercilessly for using it. It’s a
stand-out script co-written by Audiard with Thomas Bidegain that feels
remarkably fresh in a genre film, recalling some of the magic from Taylor
Sheridan’s equally imploring Hell
or High Water (2016).
Receiving their orders from a notoriously secretive man
known as the Commodore, Charlie tells his brother that he’s been assigned as
the lead man, getting a majority percentage in their pay, and, accordingly,
he’s been issued a new horse. Eli is a
bit startled, as this is all news to him, wondering why he should have to ride
the same beaten-down horse. But it fits
their profile, as Charlie is the extroverted sociopath who gets all the
attention, executing men with a sadistic relish, seemingly without a care in
the world, though it’s clear he has a screw loose somewhere, getting blind
drunk on too many occasions, with the more thoughtful and introspective older
brother Eli inevitably forced to play second fiddle and look after him, as he’s
done all their lives. Both scarred from brutally
painful and traumatic childhood experiences, they had a ruthless father who was
an aggressive drunkard that routinely beat their mother, where it was the boys
themselves that eventually put an end to it, though Eli still regrets that it
was Charlie who killed him, feeling this was the older brother’s
responsibility. Nonetheless, a special
bond has developed between them through the years, with Eli contemplating
getting out while they’re still alive, retiring quietly, perhaps running a
general store. Charlie, of course, has
to laugh at that, thinking they’re on top of the world, earning top dollar,
feeling invincible, so why on earth would they stop now? Killing is the only thing he’s really good at,
taking great pleasure in his dominant skill, and while it’s clear they
inherited bad blood from their father, they believe they’re putting it to
better use. So it’s on to the next
mission, with the Commodore hiring a more discerning detective tracker John
Morris (Jake Gyllenhaal with a weird accent) to find one of his enemies
described as a thief, Hermann Warm (Riz Ahmed), a chemist with a secret formula
for finding gold, with Morris expected to hold him until the Sisters brothers
finish him off, but not before extracting his valuable secret. While there is plenty of ground to cover,
Audiard’s leisurely pace allows time to pass, paying respect for the great
distances, as these were epic and often laborious journeys filled with peril
(often of their own making), where the film becomes a compelling weeks-long odyssey
of new discoveries. Shot by Benoît Debie
in the forests and mountains of Romania and Spain, the majestic scenery is
reminiscent of Peckinpah’s early film Ride
the High Country (1962), as is the back and forth banter between two highly
skilled actors working at the top of their game, where perennial second banana Reilly
literally steals the picture as an outlaw with a heart of gold.
Curiously, both Phoenix and Reilly have performed variations
on Johnny Cash, with Phoenix nominated for an Oscar with his biographical
portrayal in WALK THE LINE (2005), while Reilly did a character based on the renowned
exploits of Cash in his irreverently obscure film, WALK HARD: THE DEWEY COX STORY (2007). They are terrific together, where Phoenix is
more manic and terrifying, but the more laid back and accommodating Reilly is
really the heart of the picture in what amounts to a role of a lifetime. Part of the beauty of the film is that
nothing ever goes according to plan, instead we are treated to the bizarre
twists and turns in the road. An
informed character study, we only learn the brother’s backstory late in the
film through belated developments, as each in their own way is challenged to
rise above their past and make amends, chartering new and unfamiliar territory,
where at one point when they hit the Pacific Ocean Charlie announces, “I think
this is further than we’ve ever been before.”
“You mean ― in conversation?” asks a clueless Eli. Foreshadowing a new playing field, all the
central characters meet at some point, each in some ways changed by the others,
where people actually make a difference.
But it’s no easy transition, as stubborn and hard-headed frontier
individualists are usually the last to recognize internal conflict and adapt to
change, but here blind ambition and disturbing forces challenge each of them,
albeit differently, offering at least some of them a chance at redemption. Audiard always does an excellent job probing
the depths of masculinity, finding layers of humanity underneath that defy the
stereotypes, where these two brothers are polar opposites, yet perhaps the two
of them together form a more perfect union. Can bad people change? Usually there’s no incentive to do so, as
they continually get what they want by being bad. But
this film speaks to an era of lawless savagery that finally succumbs to the
pressures of a more decent civilization.
Audiard beautifully integrates that into the story and pieces it
together, pointing to a more hopeful direction that literally springs out of
nowhere, painting a darkly humorous yet insightful portrait of the American
West, where the unending violence is near impossible to escape, yet salvation
is rarely achieved at the barrel of a gun.
The music of Alexandre Desplat is never overpowering, but offers a sense
of restrained elegance, like a spiritual awakening, which may be the underlying
key to the film. The pressures of their
dark past clearly haunts Eli, who seeks a different outcome than his more
untamed brother, where the cruel hostilities of the world eventually take their
toll, as you can’t keep challenging fate forever. It’s like playing Russian roulette, where the
consequences are ultimately devastating. But Audiard is up to the task, finding
tenderness where you least expect it, offering a picture-perfect finale that
finds a grace note, transcending all moral boundaries.
