By Bennett Duckworth
Contributing Writer
I just saw “The Best of Me” and “Fury” – which is not a healthy combination to have floating in your system. It’s like an over-sweetened Starbucks beverage topped of with a giant steak from Applebee’s. Why did I subject myself to such a dangerous experiment? Well, I feel these films have something in common: Both are likely to inspire someone to drag their significant other to see it against their will.
“Fury” is a World War II film about the crew of a U.S. Sherman tank making their way through Nazi Germany. It stars Brad Pitt, Logan Lerman, Michael Peña, Shia LaBeouf and Jon Bernthal. The film is directed by David Ayer and like his “End of Watch,” it tends to have a rather confused voice. He likes to show us the life and work of tough guys from a perspective that is informed and mature at one moment, but then ridiculous and exploitative the next.
“Fury” may be an augmentation of Ayer’s strengths and weaknesses in one film. His cinematographer, Roman Vasyanov, goes for a comparatively grounded and rich aesthetic. The first shot of the film had my complete attention and respect. Some scenes, especially one set in the invaded home of a German woman, are full of the kind of lengthy, awkward, unpredictable tension you would expect to find in a John Cassavettes film. Most of the film’s acting is emotionally believable, but there are a distracting amount of instances where contemporary language and modality feel very out-of-place for the 1940s.
Some of the battle scenes are terrifyingly compelling, but they have the tendency to go overboard, and the melodramatic score by Steven Price is no help. His contribution is a tacky contrast to such gritty and bleak material. I found myself wishing this movie had no music at all.
By the time the film concluded with an unbelievable standoff and stylized end credits rolled, I knew that I’d been shown an idea of the nightmarish ugliness of war, but I also felt as though I was exiting a deranged theme park ride.
There was no confusion to be felt about “The Best of Me” – a movie that never had a chance. Was there any sincerity behind the making of this film? There must have been an ounce or two or it would have been one very interesting comedy. Alas, this is a romantic drama from a novel by Nicholas Sparks.
While directed by Michael Hoffman, who made the respectable 2009 film, “The Last Station,” “The Best of Me” has little to no personal touch. This is like a manufactured melodrama with clichés in all the typical places. Maybe this film is like a ride too.
It follows the rekindled romance between two attractive people after their mentor passes away. The movie slowly explains what got in the way of their love during their youth and how fate has brought them back together.
It’s filled with bad drama for people who don’t know any better. At the beginning, the two lead characters are played by James Marsden and Michelle Monaghan. But they are soon to share screen time with their younger selves in flashbacks, played by Luke Bracey and Liana Liberato. I am hard-pressed to think of another movie where I was more distracted by older/younger counterparts who look nothing alike.
This is only one of many elements, which make it difficult to feel invested in the film’s characters. Their development is weak and the development of the film’s supporting characters is almost laughably nonexistent. Good people are good. Bad people are bad.
It’s set in a small Louisiana town where a young, clean, handsome man is the black sheep in a family of vicious lunatic drug-dealing rednecks. He is admired by a local rich girl whose family has little screen time, except for a scene late in the film where the father attempts to bribe the young man to stay away from his respectable daughter (Sigh).
Their reunion, followed by a near-death experience, provokes the guy to wonder if he is meant to be with her. I understand the allure of mysticism in romantic dramas revolving around fate and coincidences. It’s the kind of escapism that fuels a good movie when conveyed on a subtextual level. However, when all that business is on the surface – when characters are talking about it and I barely feel like I’ve gotten to know them as human beings, I could care less what cosmic forces are looking out for the love of these two multi-cellular organisms.
So, there you have it. One movie is glossy and phony. The other is gritty and phony. Maybe one of these is worth your two-plus hours and cash, but don’t force a disinterested person whom you love to see it with you. That’s not love. That’s just mean.
Bennett Duckworth is a film fanatic who lives in Louisville and goes to see a movie in the theater at least once a week. He has kept a movie review blog since September of 2011 with the mission of writing about every new release he sees, as well as new trends in filmmaking and classic films he loves. You can read more of his reviews at www.bennettduckworth.blogspot.com.
