Cold in July

A neo-noir directed by Jim Micklee based on a novel by Joe Lansdale, a dark, grim and gritty tale of retaliation and retributions. The ramifications of a murder, lead to the carnage and involved people can go at any length. This is not your usual thriller but a compelling mysterious story which keeps us at the edge of our seats.

Set in 1989 Texas, Richard Dane (Michael C. Hall) a common family man, one night defensively guns down an intruder. The police quickly identify the corpse as a wanted criminal and bury him. Richard still feels the remorse of killing a human being and goes to the cemetery where the dead man's father Ben Russell (Sam Shepard) threatens to kill Richard's young son. In order to save his family Richard takes police help however consequently he unfolds some secrets, now Richard and Ben will take the assistance of a brash private detective, Jim Bob (Dan Johnson), to crawl to the core of Richard's uncertainty.

The narrative is paced with lots of twists and turns to keep us engaged throughout the run time of 150 minutes. The minute details of 80's Texas are just impeccable. The screenplay will keep you on your toes as the tension builds subsequently. The overwhelming final shot portrays a brutal and stylized violent scene which is fresh and instinctual. However, some of the details are missing here as the some unexplained loose ends which are not tied and there should have been a better female cast.

The performances are brilliant, Hall is stellar as a protective family man and the transformation his character is immaculate. Shepard is remarkable as a distressed father, looking for his son. Johnson is a scene stealer having as much fun as anyone can within such confine.

Cold in July is a captivating experience with tense and unsettling tone. The independent cinema is at its best.

My Vite 7.5/10

Cold in July is a Texas neo-noir set in 1989. A man called Richard Dane kills an intruder in his home one night. The victim's dad subsequently turns up and starts hassling Dane and his family. The police get involved but things begin to take a turn for the unpredictable when it soon becomes apparent that the dead man isn't who he appears to be. This leads to a spiral of very dark secrets.

What makes this one work so well is a combination of a great trio of performances and the 80's retro styling. Of the former we have Michael C. Hall, Sam Shepard and Don Johnson as a motley crew of sleuths bent on discovering the truth and ultimately meting out violent retribution. The three actors work well together in portraying their uneasy alliance. While the aforementioned 80's setting is great too. The soundtrack is a combination of some choice 80's hard rock and some neo-electro 80's styling synth music to score the film and build atmosphere. It works highly in the movie's favour and gives it a cool sheen while seeming entirely appropriate given the era depicted.

The story-line is a mixture of fairly familiar things you probably have encountered in these types of movies before and I'm not going to reveal too much of what lies ahead as it's best to go into these types of films with as little foreknowledge as possible. But it is the way that these standard elements have been presented on screen that makes them work so well, as well as the aforementioned acting and 80's setting. There are a few loose ends in the story and some aspects that you will require to suspend your disbelief at a little. But this is hardly a new thing when it comes to pulpy thrillers. The important thing is that Cold in July is a superior example of this kind of thing. It's very involving throughout and makes its generic material seem fresh, which is easier said than done.

(89%) One of those great little movies that will sadly get seen by far too few, and although it is not a 100% slab of solid gold, it's still a really damn good piece of storytelling. First of all the 1980's style soundtrack is sublime, a true contender for the best of the year without a shadow of doubt. The performances couldn't be much better, Michael C. Hall is perfect as the mullet headed everyman caught in a very tricky spot, and Don Johnson breathes a breath of fresh air into the second half. The direction is focused and unfussy. While the story is fantastically well paced as it twists and turns almost constantly, I just cannot recommend this enough. A must-watch American future classic that's worth the time, effort, and money watching properly at the cinema, so do so, you won't regret it.

The distinction between murder, manslaughter and self-defence is one that continues to grow more appropriate in America with each passing year. How does one determine the truth when only one key witness is available to divulge in their perspective? Especially when the odds are in their favour by accidentally shooting a "wanted felon" in the eye. The police view it as heroism. The general public questioning its intent. The victim's father overwhelmed with rage and demented turmoil, threatening the safety of the family thrown into the icy-cold chills of crime.

Mickle's intentionally masculine crime thriller is one that evokes themes of fatherhood. The paternal rights and responsibilities of their children who may, or may not, be following the path of sin. Ever increasing the protectorship of their guardian figure for the sake of the family they have lovingly crafted. It's a natural instinct. To protect our own flesh and blood, no matter the cost. But what if that expenditure is too severe? What if their existence is causing suffering to others? The morality of these two fathers, the shooter and the victim's patriarch, is tested through unlawful extremities. Challenges that conjure inner turmoil. And it's only through Mickle's astute direction do we as viewers journey down this careening route of masculinity.

What starts off as a simplistic revenge thriller soon complicates itself into an absorbingly comedic drama, whilst still shrouded in pulpy neo-noir aesthetics. Grace's booming synthesised score and Samul's ornate use of vivid neon backdrops cement the noir elegance. Yet it's Mickle's insistence in shifting genres, adding a quirky aura of surrealism to the mix, that acts as gritty adhesive. Does it work? Not quite. The brutal tension that is meticulously built up in the first hour is palpable. Slow panning through tight corridors. Strikes of lightning illuminating the bleak darkness of 80's Texas. The atmosphere compact with nullified thrills.

Then the plot thickens. The local police become involved, a recruited Private Investigator struts his stuff and suddenly the genre changes. Intrinsic comedy is injected through Johnson's character, contrasting against Shepard and Hall's intimidatingly serious performances. Unfortunately, this relieves the suffocating tension that preceded it, relying on a clichéd yet stylistic conclusive shootout with moments of jarring humour. Whilst it does add characterisation, Mickle's screenplay rarely furthers itself by being weighed down by overly basic dialogue. Conversational scenes, particularly between the two fathers, seemed muted. Lacking in fire and anger. If the script had been tighter with some sharper tongues for the characters, the complacent genre shift would've been more forgiving. The two were unable to mesh cohesively.

That's not a detriment to the overall technicality and theatricality of Cold In July. It remained bitterly deadly throughout and utterly watchable. If only the script had been tighter and the narrative differences more seamless when transitioning, we could've had ourselves an incredibly rare hidden gem of noir excellence.

This dirty little piece of Texas pulp rides the fine line of art of trash with brilliant composure as its dark script teases you with how far it'll go. The seed is planted when an everyman kills an intruder in his home, and the story spins wildly out of control from there. The story moves forward at a brisk pace and never looks back. Sure that means there are as many holes as there are unanswered questions, but such is the case with pulp. You gotta live in the now, man. In the end, I'm still not sure how to process what I've seen, and I've gained no further insight or knowledge about myself, the world, or humanity. And I wouldn't have it any other way