Mystic River
With his 24th film as a director (and only his fourth where he doesn’t also star), Clint Eastwood redeems himself for a decade that witnessed the 73-year old actor-director taking on predictable potboilers (1997’s “Absolute Power” (A-), 1999’s “True Crime” (D), and 2002’s “Blood Work” (B)); best-selling chick flick weepies (1995’s “The Bridges of Madison County” (C+)); an ultra-popular- and possibly unfilmmable Southern Gothic phenom (1997’s quite flawed- but still underrated- “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil” (B+)); “Grumpy Old Men”-style antics (2000’s wonderfully enjoyable “Space Cowboys” (A-)); and a rich, unorthodox character study disguised as a manhunt movie (1993’s underappreciated- and memorably emotional- “A Perfect World” (A-)), with varying degrees of success. Indeed, the press has it right- “Mystic River” (another best-seller adaptation by the director, this one from Dennis Lehane’s 2001 novel) is Eastwood’s best film as a director since 1992’s Oscar triumph with the indelible Western “Unforgiven” (A). For the first time in a decade, he avoids easy cliche and story-stopping subplots (such as the excessive focus on “Midnight’s” The Lady Chablis), and trusts in the intelligence and dramatic pull of the story and creates a dark and fascinating study of the human condition, like with “Unforgiven” and “A Perfect World.” For one of the few times the past decade, he tells an all-muscle story that doesn’t slip into plodding slowness, and is worthy of “Mystic’s” 137 minute run time, like with “Unforgiven,” “A Perfect World,” and “Space Cowboys.” And for the first time in a decade, a date with Oscar isn’t completely out of the question.
Nor should it be, for Eastwood or his extraordinary cast. Working from a script by fellow Oscar winner Brian Helgeland (“L.A. Confidential,” Eastwood’s “Blood Work”), Eastwood’s telling the story of three childhood friends in Boston- Jimmy (Sean Penn), Dave (Tim Robbins), and Sean (Kevin Bacon)- torn apart as they grow up because of their differing paths in life- Jimmy’s an ex-con, Dave’s a working father, Sean’s a local detective- and because of a childhood tragedy that befell Dave, but left all three scarred. Sadly, it’s tragedy that brings them together again, as Jimmy’s daughter is brutally murdered late one night, Sean is assigned to the case with his partner Whitey (Laurence Fishburne, making up for the overwrought pretensions of Morpheus with his vitally acted scenes with Bacon), and Dave- to the suspicion and unease of his wife Celeste (Oscar winner Marcia Gay Harden’s paranoia about her husband is palpable and powerful)- comes home that fateful night with a gash in his stomach and someone’s blood on his hands.
In the hands of this director (Eastwood), through the mouths of these actors (Penn, Bacon, Robbins, Fishburne, Gay Harden, and an indelible Laura Linney, making an impression as Jimmy’s devoted wife), what could’ve been an over-simplified murder mystery or overwrought melodrama becomes a thoughtful, provocative study of innocence lost, friendship broken, emotion repressed, and grief overwhelmed, all of which are expressed in Eastwood’s brooding, evocative musical theme that’s continuously present throughout the film.
The three stars are as good as I’ve seen them. Penn (“Dead Man Walking”) brings ferocious feeling to Jimmy. An ex-con, this is an event that emotionally wounds Jimmy, and you can read it on his face. For the first time in his adult life, he’s vulnerable, and that manifests into rage, as he and some former associates look to stay a step ahead of the cops in the investigation into his daughter’s murder so that Jimmy can pass his own judgement. As Sean, Bacon (“A Few Good Men”) is cool and collected, trying to remain objective as a detective while staying loyal to the friends he knew as a child. But Robbins (“The Shawshank Redemption”) is likelyy the one you’ll remember. Dave has never been the same since his abduction 25 years earlier, and the events of the Saturday night Jimmy’s daughter was killed rattle him to his core. Paranoia engulfs him, thoughts of mortality and questions of his own humanity plague him. He can’t look at Jimmy or talk to Sean, his best friends from his childhood, and one gets the feeling he’s never been able to share with Celeste the ghosts in his memories. What Robbinds achieves in this performance is a master class in portraying grief in acting. Through him, Bacon, Penn, and his own watchful eye for his art, Eastwood creates a resonant, tragic, and haunting dirge to childhood lost, and lives ruined.
