I've been told that people can't write anything new; we can only rewrite what's already been written. Apply said phrase to film, and I think there are plenty of examples that prove it's true. Often this is an awful thing (i.e. recent movie Sorority Row, an uninspiring, poor nod [I'm being generous] to I Know What You Did Last Summer). However, some ideas, no matter if they are cliched can work. Jeff Nichols's Shotgun Stories, while treading familiar territory, is a story that delivers.
Taking place in southeast Arkansas, Shotgun Stories involves two sets of brothers, each set sharing the same father, but a different mother. The story is told from the perspective of Son, Boy, and Kid Hayes, their names proof of their father's failure to love them. Though their father has abandoned and failed the three, he does better by his second wife and sons. When the three are informed of their father's death, they head to the funeral, where Son asks if he can say a few words before the burial. After several scathing remarks, Son spits on his "father's" casket, enraging the four by the second wife. The feud begins.
Like any good story about war and hate, this one focuses on the futility of retaliation. A Wendell Berry quote comes to mind in connection to the film's plot: "Violence breeds violence. Acts of violence committed in 'justice' or in affirmation of 'rights' or in defense of 'peace' do not end violence. They prepare and justify its continuation." Nichols's film drives this idea home. For every act of violence one of the brothers commits, another one is returned. Think the futile retaliations in The Godfather set in the backwoods of Arkansas. Unlike Coppola's film, however, a glimmer of light is behind all the shadows cast in this movie.
As I said, the plot has been done before, but what makes up for it is the sincerity prevalent in this movie. This isn't a pretentious movie. It's not the hackneyed revenge story so many filmmakers tell us we should care about. There is real pain here, scars, the moments of resignation that all of us have to face when living. It's not perfect, and that's not the point. What is here is genuine, and worth your time.
Aside from the story, there are beautiful and moving images throughout its duration. The south in its glory. Nichols's work reminds me of the things I adore about Southern gothic literature. Violence, redemption, pain, and death. It's all here. I look forward to what Nichols does in the future.
2 comments:
Well stated, Ellis. This film struck me as well in its ability to express the profound agony and senseless sorrow violence brings. I love your use of Berry's quote. This movie gives you a quiet unfolding of those words you've reflected upon, and one is left with a real sense of our broken humanity. However, it is also true that the love that runs deep, though tested strongly, in the character's relationships to brother, wife, dog, work, and even land give you a hope for redemption.
You are right. Its the same story we have heard before, but this one is told with smart simplicity. It matches the land. This same story will continue to be told as long as there are humans to live it out, and this time it is uniquely told in a Southern voice.
This seems really interesting, Ellis. I want to watch it. Like soon.
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