'Killing Them Softly'

Killing Them Softly opens in quintessential crime thriller/mobster fashion with a robbery committed by two less than bright petty criminals. Deadbeats Frankie and Russell rob a card game, organized by mobster Markie. As Markie is known to have robbed his own game years ago, they figure that they're on the safe side and no-one will come looking for them, as everyone will blame Markie. Here's the general principle of crime and capitalism though: someone always has to pay and before they know it, the two guys and their shady boss aptly named 'Squirrel' have a contract out on them. Enter Cogan, your friendly neighbourhood killer. Cogan only has one problem: He can't kill anyone he's met, so seeing that he knows Squirrel, he gives the job to Mickey, his old pal. Mickey's all washed up though and is only interested in the booze and hookers the town has to offer. Needless to say, the top dogs are unsatisfied with the run of things. One fuck-up follows another as the people who should make decisions don't and the people who shouldn't do.

The film is set in 2008 at the time of the Bush-Obama handover. As such, the characters listen to the Obama campaign on the radio or Bush defending his political choices on TV in the background. Whether mobsters really tune in to current events during a card game remains questionable, but at least the technique allows Andrew Dominik to hammer his point home. In the end, the only difference between crime and politics is in the name, as both operate according to the same economic principles or as Cogan would have it: America is a business. Set at the time when the American government asked the taxpayer to show solidarity and 'bail' the American banks out, it is hard not to see parallels to the Markie plot, as someone always takes the fall. Reality here does not exist, only the perception of it is important. And if the little man has to take the fall, so be it, even if 'Everybody loves Markie' as Cogan cynically states at the end. There might be a certain naïve simplicity to the points Dominik makes, but at the same time, it illustrates the cynicism of a society which knows perfectly well where it all goes wrong and renders itself guilty by compliance.

There's a three-level structure to the character built-up: there's the top level, the decision makers whose corporate thinking paralyses them and leads to unnecessary and expensive measures as they continuously lose their head. These guys remain anonymous, they are never named. Then there's middle management, mostly represented by Cogan, Driver, the lawyer figure (get it? As he drives the action forward) and the familiar cinematic figure of the alcoholic who's on the path to professional destruction in Mickey. Last there's the work force, the plebs so to speak, aptly represented by Frankie and Russell. So, during recession, the working class is fucked, the middle management is about to get fucked and the top management remains invisible and is looking to place the blame. There's a certain comfort in knowing that even hitmen have to take a paycut.

Corporate thinking has taken over crime and consumerism is the religion of the economically viable. As such it comes as no surprise that one of the murders is shot in a beautiful slo-mo mostly seen in perfume or car advertisements. The style here makes a direct comment on the essentially capitalist nature of this act, which has nothing to do with motive and all with appearance.

The film script is based on George V. Higgins' novel Cogan's Trade, which explains its heavy reliance on dialogue and a good thing this is too, as the strength of the film lies in the witty, fast, noir-ish quality of characters jabbing. Quite often, and hilariously so, the conversations between the criminals are in no way different from the ones had by office drones at the water cooler, including a lot, and I mean, a lot of bitching and moaning about management and bosses, over-blown stories of sexual achievements and piss takes at colleagues. This is a character-driven piece which lives through the quality of its actors. Pitt, who's already worked with Dominik on The Assassination of Jesse James, once again proves his versatility as an actor, a fact sometimes overshadowed by his celebrity status in the public opinion. Pitt renders Cogan utterly likeable and his actions understandable and we're talking about a psychotic sociopath here, but look: He takes care of is friends and can't kill anyone he knows. Pitt plays Cogan with an authority and twisted sense of fair-play one would wish for in a boss. He delivers Cogan's last speech of the film with an anger and cynicism that render the overall bleakness of this world, and indeed, our own world, even more explicit. Yes, we can? Actually, erm, you'll find that we can't.

One of the highlights of the film, of any film with him in it, and, yes, I am biased, is Richard Jenkins. Jenkins is just one of those completely underrated actors that most people kinda know, but confusedly turn to their partner to ask: What was he in again? Well, let me tell you this: As soon as you read his name on a poster, go and see the film! Jenkins has an understated style of acting which can be threatening, subdued, condescending, kind, dumb, pitiful, pathetic, empowering, all conveyed with the minutest twitch in facial muscles. Here then, he plays a middleman between Cogan and the top guys. His rhetoric wouldn't be out of place in a boardroom meeting, which renders the actions discussed even more disconcerting. As friendly and average as Cogan and Driver appear in their dealings, the last scene reveals them as the ruthless and cynic bastards that they are as a direct result of our living in times of extreme individualism. I mean, what did we expect?

Apart from these two outstanding performances, James Gandolfini makes a cringe-worthy (the character, not the performance) appearance as the washed-up Mickey. It sometimes seems as if Gandolfini acts with his eye-lids solely and here they're almost dropping to the floor which gives him the look of a beaten puppy that can snap at the same time as you try to pet it.

Then there's Scoot MacNairy and Ben Mendelson as the downbeats Frankie and Russell. Both of them ooze shadiness and Mendelson's sweaty, unwashed appearance just makes you vividly imagine what he must smell like and it really does make your stomach churn. MacNairy's character is a long way off from the clever US government employee in Argo as he physically turns into this nervous, weasely guy who knows he is losing control. One of the best scenes of the film definitely has to be the 'conversation' Frankie and a very stoned Russell have, in which Russell keeps drifting off and Frankie gets more and more panicky, realising that Russell just signed their death sentence. Those two young actors certainly have the most visceral and physical performances of the film, in which their body language tells you just as much about their disenfranchised status as their actions.

Even Ray Liotta is surprisingly good as Markie 'the scapegoat' Trattman, even though I have to say I am not a big fan of his. However, he does hold up well and especially his performance in the beating scene stands out as one of the best in his career.

This world is indeed the bleakness of a senseless noir universe in which motive plays no role and sense is a futile concept. Once the events are initiated by a stupid idea, there's no end to the spiralling into a mindless violence. This world is stifling and arbitrary, there is little or no hope and in this, the atmosphere of the film can almost be called coen-esque. No wonder then that the finishing monologue by Pitt bears an uncanny resemblance to the opening monologue of the Visser character in Blood Simple: In America, respectively Texas for Visser, you're on your own. This is the underside of the American pursuit of freedom and personal gain, not so much the liberty of the pioneer spirit as the pettiness of the criminal mind and the corruption of political acting.

Dominik is known for his neat, tight mise-en-scene and this film is no different. The colour scheme is one of subdued greys and blues, with an iconography of rainy streets, urban warehouses, empty roads and a general atmosphere of hopelessness. I'm not selling it to you? The thing about Dominik's style is that it catches you by its serene roughness, yes, I know, that's an oxymoron, but I really can't explain it any better. There's beauty in these essentialist and ordered visuals. It's clean and unemotional which might or might not be your cup of tea, as a matter of fact, the whole film will divide the audience, that much can be seen coming. Following our current obsession with cultural similes, think HBO, more specifically The Sopranos, rather than Scorcese, with a little bit of Winding Refn thrown in visually for good measure. As it is, for me, this is one of the most surprising features of this season, cynical to the point of down right apocalyptic, beautifully subdued in which the visuals enhance the overall bleakness, cleverly written, well adapted and incredibly funny when it comes to the dialogue, even if the play with radio interviews and TV comments borders on the blunt sometimes. This is film noir in spirit, without the melodrama and theatrics and makes for the perfect anti-Christmas viewing.