This is also a film I watched a fair while ago now, but haven't had the chance to blog about. I seem to be incapable of watching a film now without writing about it (an intrinsic side-effect of being an English Literature student, I guess). Anyway, continuing the positive theme, this was a film I absolutely adored, and not just because it starred my ultimate celebrity pin-up Ryan Gosling (in fact, perhaps in spite of this!). By the way, if you haven't watched the film, and want to be surprised when you do, do not read this write up: MASSIVE SPOILER ALERT.
The film opens with motorbike stuntman Luke Glanton (Gosling), preparing to perform at a state fair (I'm hazily guessing it is now set in the late 80's, possibly early 90's). Glanton, like Gosling himself (sorry, I can't be impartial), is effortlessly cool, your typical 'bad boy' figure. After performing his stunt, Glanton finds an ex-lover Romina (Eva Mendes) waiting for him; he subsequently discovers he has fathered her child, Jason. Glanton decides to do the right thing, quit the fair and support his child; Romina, however, is less than encouraging, having moved on and 'in' with a new lover, Kofi. Glanton follows them to church, where we see Jason baptized, in the arms of Kofi: silent tears roll down Glanton's face as he is confronted with a physical emblem of his loss of fatherhood (a fatherhood he, paradoxically, never knew he had in order to lay claim to).
The narrative now follows Glanton's attempts to involve himself in his son's life. He finds a job fixing cars and a home (a beat-up caravan) with similar down-'n'-out Robin. The pair soon embark on a series of bank robberies, in an attempt for Glanton to get more money to support his child. With this money, Glanton begins to win Romina's favour. She allows him to see Jason, and spends the night with him (although this fact is, refreshingly, as my friend pointed out, not dwelled upon: the real affection and concomitant drama is between father and son, not lovers). Glanton, inspired by this recent contact, visits Kofi's house to deliver Jason presents when Romina and Kofi are out: when they return, conflict erupts. In this scene, we can't help but feel sympathy for Glanton. Although his gestures are misguided and extravagant, he is simply attempting to do what he believes to be 'right' by his child. A battle of wills emerges between Kofi (who believes that as this is his house, and Jason is his adopted 'son', Glanton should leave), and Glanton, who feels a touchingly paternal - if obstinate - claim to Jason, as his biological son. Glanton hits Kofi with a pair of pliers and is arrested for assault.
As the action progresses, Glanton becomes increasingly desperate, and embarks on a bank robbery on his own. As he pulls up, he realises he has forgotten his sunglasses. In the course of the narrative, these glasses would have no real effect anyway (he is followed by cops almost as soon as he leaves the bank), but this omission subtly augurs and insures the negative outcome of the robbery; he is not together, he is not thinking correctly, he will not be successful. During the robbery itself, Gosling reflects his character's desperation exceedingly well; his actions are sporadic and twitchy, he becomes increasingly profane, and his voice reaches a pitch almost inhumanly high. As he exits the bank, his bike (not his usual bike, that was destroyed by Robin), refuses to start: he is quickly pursued by cops, and a tense, high-octane car/motorbike chase through cemeteries and suburban streets ensues. Glanton eventually falls off his bike, taking refuge in a house - initially he claims the occupants as hostages, but quickly releases them - holing himself in an upper bedroom. The door is not ostensibly locked, and he sits in an open windowsill calling Romina, telling her not to tell Jason about him. Here, the two narratives converge. Avery Cross (Bradley Cooper), a low-ranking officer, tentatively pursues Glanton through the house, kicking in the door, and shooting him (Glanton in turn shoots him in the foot, it is unclear who shot first). Glanton falls from the window, killed by the shot and/or fall.
One would not be overly presumptive to assume that here, the film would terminate (I certainly believed so), but no, the screenplay (written by Cianfrance, Ben Coccio, and Darius Marder) continues, now following the fallout of the incident from Cross' perspective. Some people I have spoken to have criticised this aspect, claiming that the film's posters and trailers did not advertise this section of the film (from a glance at these, 'The Place Beyond the Pines' is ostensibly exclusively dedicated to Glanton's narrative, centering on a specifically domestic setting). However, I feel that this omission is not lax or unintentional but extremely skillful. We do not expect the narrative to continue beyond Glanton's death, but this continuation opens up the film in an entirely new, experimental way, preventing an either linear or sentimental reading. 'The Place Beyond the Pines' is, for all intents and purposes, an extremely intricate, complex interrogation of human relationships, individual consciousness, conscience, morality, justice and crime: leaving off at Glanton's death would not allow these discrete, particular, yet paradoxically interconnected themes to be developed - and 'The Place Beyond the Pines' would simply become 'another' trash movie, in which Ryan Gosling looks pretty for a bit and is eventually shortchanged, and we all cry sympathetic tears (see The Notebook, or Drive).
Cross is treated as a hero after killing Glanton, receiving an honorary award, and congratulations from his co-workers. There is, however, inside him and with us, a niggling suspicion that his actions were not, in fact, just or warranted, or event preventative (Glanton had not stated an intent to hurt anyone, he set the 'hostages' free, and it is unclear whether the door was barred). He feels remorse about killing Glanton, especially when discovering he has an infant son like his own, information we learn when he visits a therapists office (hang on, I'm having flashbacks to Silver Lining's Playbook!). Cross is induced by corrupt officers to visit Romina's home and seize (robbed) money left to her by Glanton. This is an extremely interesting element of the film. Just as Glanton attempted to do what he thought was 'right' by his son, yet encountered several obstacles (i.e. poverty, Kofi, jail), Cross attempts to do what is 'right' by handing the dirty money to a senior officer, yet discovers a barrier that prevents and skews his own moral compass: the senior police, he discovers, are just as if not more corrupt than everyone else. In light of this barrier, however, Cross persistently perseveres, recording an attempted blackmail and reporting the situation to an external board, and thereby securing a position as district attorney (removing himself from the corrupted police force). He is again reported in the news as a 'hero' who has busted an internal web of corruption, drug-dealing and money-laundering within the force: a man of integrity. I find the way the media is involved throughout the film extremely interesting; at several points it praises Cross (and disregards Glanton), elevating him to a superhuman, hero-like status. This outside intrusion is likely to have some impact on his perceptions of himself, as well as the pressure exerted by his father, and perhaps is what spurs or causes him to seek higher, more ambitious positions (he will later run for public office). Cross as a character - intentionally I feel - like Glanton, leaves us torn. On one hand, one appreciates that his first act (killing Glanton), was in part motivated by naivety and fear, and that he did (respectfully) attempt to atone for his 'crime' by turning in his fellow officers after the robbery; however, did he turn them in because he felt bad about invading Romina's home, or because of their corruption? did he seek to leave the police, only to achieve a higher position? is attention his motivation? is the public sphere one he chose, or, as the saying goes, had thrust upon him? These questions remain open-ended, and throughout my attitude toward Cross remained ambivalent: he seems to me, at once, an abstraction of the exceptional public 'hero', and an embodiment of the inherently ambitious but essentially flawed everyman.
Again, one now expects the film to conclude, yet Cianfrance thrills in thwarting his audience's epistemophilia, and we quickly discover that the film is not in fact bipartite, but tripartite (big spoilers coming). It is fifteen years later (wow, Bradley Cooper hasn't aged one bit!), and we learn at Cross' fathers funeral that his son AJ (Avery Junior, played by Emory Cohen), is getting into trouble and wants to come and live with him. AJ comes to live with his father and transfers to a new high school where he meets a lithe boy sat alone (anyone with even rudimentary perceptive skills will work out who this is), named Jason (Dane Dehaan). In a deft twist of dramatic irony, neither boy (and why would they) knows who each other is: Jason does not know he is sharing a splif with his father's killer, nor does AJ know he's sharing one with the son of the man his father killed. We quickly discover that Aj is, in fact, a rather nasty piece of work, who induces Jason to 'score' some drugs for him. The pair are caught and arrested: AJ is set free, and - because of Cross' influence - Jason's charge is dropped to a misdemeanor. It is interesting to note here, that, in his position of power and influence (a privilege Glanton crucially lacked), Cross can make virtually 'anything' happen: the corruption he once eschewed appears to have regrown and metamorphosed, in a paradoxically similar, yet different mutation. Avery orders his son to stay away from Jason.
Following his arrest, Jason begins to think about his 'real' father, and manages to convince Kofi (who insists that he is his 'real' dad), to give him Glanton's name. This piece of information sets the film's final action in motion, hurtling towards a disturbing denouement. Jason 'googles' his father, and discovers the information about him and his death that the audience is already party to, and goes to visit Robin. He learns about his father, his superior motorbiking skills, how much he loved him, and finds his bright green glasses (a nice touch, Glanton placed them on Jason as a baby, and more sadly, their 'loss' was the omen of his entire undoing). AJ invites (or bullies) Jason into stealing drugs for a house-party he holds at his father's house. Jason gets drunk, and spots a photo of his father's killer (AJ's father) Avery Cross, this horrible recognition prompting him to attack the unknowing AJ, who in turn beats him to a pulp. Watching this, I wonder here whether, if AJ knew why Jason was beating him, he'd understand or even sympathise. I'd hazard a guess at no. Both 'children' adopt and exaggerate their father's characteristics. Jason looks and acts like even more of an outsider, 'loner', or outcast than his father: with all the melancholy and none of the skill, fame, or attractiveness. AJ meanwhile, is an abstraction and amplification of the pig-headed, ambitious, popular, corrupt, self-important aspects that only glimmered in his father's character (however, through his public office campaign seem to have been developed). The two appear as polar opposites, and clash as opposites (despite the fact that some of their qualities intersect or intertwine).
Jason leaves hospital, and his mother, and arrives at the Cross' house while AJ is in the shower - with a gun. We are not aware whether he has killed AJ or not as he kidnaps Avery senior, and makes him drive into the woods (in a scene that hauntingly echoes that when Cross is forced to drive into the woods by a corrupt officer), holding him at gunpoint and preparing, we are led to believe, to execute him. Jason, like his father before him, is displaying all the signs of a desperate man (or boy), attempting to do what is 'right' (for Jason, Hamlet-esque, revenging his father is the moral course). His conviction to kill Cross is blighted by Cross' affectionate concern for his own son, and admission of his regret and atonement for killing Jason's father (Cross displays his early integrity once more). Jason takes his jacket and wallet, finding the photograph of himself and his mother and father Cross took from Glanton's backpack in the evidence room. As Jason drives away, leaving Cross alive, there is a sense of circularity; he has the picture of his family (a token of their once ephemeral existence), and, we learn, he has 'spared' Cross and his son in a way that his father was not spared. Jason finds a new justice, one that does not end in death (but maybe a bit of crime).
Cross goes on to win the public office election, AJ at his side. If the pattern is to repeat itself, Cross' success would be matched by 'a' Glanton (Jason's) failure. However, as Jason buys a bike and drives off into the distance, there is ambiguity. On one hand, this can be seen as a direct signal that - if it is not happening immediately - Jason will eventually follow in his father's footsteps, towards a life of crime and premature death; however, on the other hand, and more strongly, I feel that there is a profound sense of hope that Jason will move away from what is a largely corrupt and unhealthy setting, toward a new life. He sends the picture back to his mother; he will not, like his father, cling hopelessly to the vain, idealistic belief in the (I'll call it) 'Glanton family' - but remember it as a momentary, halcyon snapshot. This is not to say that Jason's faith in 'family' as a concept is altogether destroyed, but that, unlike his father, he will not allow a passionate, but misplaced familial fervour dis-rail his life entirely. As he leaves he is alone, but that aloneness itself becomes a good thing: cathartic, redemptive. Adopting his fathers positive traits (motorbiking skills), yet eschewing his bad ones (violence, attack), Jason, in fact, does Glanton proud.
I loved 'The Place Beyond the Pines's three-parts. Although the film was incredibly long, I found myself engaged the entire way through, and even thought loosely of Aristotle and his three-part structure (protasis, epistasis, and catastrophe) while watching the film. The 'Glanton' section, rather than being the 'main' part of the film, is merely the protasis, or introductory element of the film, feeding the rest of the action. The 'Cross' section, is the epistasis, the main action - following 'Cross' the character whom links the two sandwich or 'bread' sections of the film together. And finally, the 'AJ and Jason' section is the catastrophe, where the climax of the film occurs: the characters confront each other, revenge is almost enacted, and the narrative is finally resolved. I do not believe this comparison is an overstatement. Cianfrance does something at once surprising, original, but ancient in origin: uncanny, at once familiar and unfamiliar, comforting in its linearity yet refreshing and exciting in its perspective (and, paradoxical, circularity). Five stars for the film that didn't focus on its actors' attractiveness, that created a surprising narrative, fresh yet indebted to ancient drama, that not only goes beyond expectations but obliterates them.
*****
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