This is a very hard hitting film, and served as Sean Penn’s remarkable directorial debut. I’ve found merit in all of Penn’s efforts as a filmmaker (Into the Wild is likely my favorite of his works), but this has got to be one of the most intense and anguished films from a first time filmmaker, at least that I’ve seen. Curiously based on the song “Highway Patrolman” by Bruce Springsteen, the film is set in Nebraska and revolves around two very unique brothers, one a small-town deputy while the other has resorted to a life of crime. The lawman is played by the wonderful character actor David Morse, giving one of the very best performances of his supremely underrated career, while the criminal is essayed by an early-in-the-game Viggo Mortensen, who gives an incredible and deeply layered performance as a Vietnam veteran who can’t seem to pull his life together no matter how hard he tries. Released in 1991 to excellent critical support but nonexistent box office, the film has attained a cult following, and is one of those small, meditative pieces concerned more with mood and character than about plot and overt payoff.
Anthony B. Richmond’s cinematography stings with burnished elegance, and Jay Cassidy’s editing keeps the pace moving along despite the film possessing a certain slow burn quality. The melancholy musical score by Jack Nitzsche and David Lindley only helps to add to the somber atmosphere, with Penn never resting on his music to do any of the emotional heavy lifting; his actors were more than up to the task while Penn’s screenplay stings in all the proper places. This is a very heavy, dramatic film, with an ending that leans on impassioned family dynamics rather than right and wrong. A fantastic supporting cast comprised of Dennis Hopper, Benicio Del Toro, Valeria Golino, Patricia Arquette, Charles Bronson (quietly powerful), and Sandy Dennis in her final film role all have memorable bits in this tough and sad film, while Arquette’s character goes through one of the most believable child-births that I’ve ever seen captured on film. The Indian Runner is only available, at the moment, on DVD, but this title screams Criterion Collection or Twilight Time.
Podcasting Them Softly 