The Missing Person

The last great film noir was A Touch of Evil, made 51 years ago. But the genre has never lost its allure and every now and then a filmmaker attempts a neo-noir, some succeeding famously (Chinatown, Body Heat) but most lacking the soul of the classic noirs from the 40's and 50's.

In The Missing Person, director Noah Buschel tries valiantly to recreate the original genre. First, the classic protagonist: Hot star Michael Shannon (Reservation Road) plays John Rosow, a chain-smoking, gin-soaked private detective living in a run-down apartment next to the Chicago L. Then the familiar set-up. A stranger calls and offers way too much money to do what sounds like a simple job. And finally, the twisted tale: Rosow, a former street-smart New York cop, smells something rotten, but is spurred by the money and the conviction that he will be able to outplay the other players.

Shannon makes an intriguing protagonist, grizzled and degenerate but with just enough heart and humanity to make him sympathetic. Unfortunately, the weight of the movie falls entirely on his shoulders. The plot winds its way, with a steady stream of surprises and revelations, but none of them particularly compelling. The secondary characters, especially the perfunctory love-interest, are underdeveloped. And so, despite Shannon's heroic efforts, the film stumbles, and ultimately is tripped up by incredulity and apathy.

Despite these criticisms, film noir lovers will still find enough to enjoy to make the movie worth watching. Just don't expect Orson Welles.

This movie reminded me a bit of James Gray's movies. Simply shot, actor driven, quiet, sincere, and romantic. While "The Missing Person" is much more of an art film than "Two Lovers," I left with the same feeling of having just watched something very personal and very moving. I don't want to give away too much about this movie, but ultimately it is a film about loneliness and being alone. Sound like a downer? It's not. Michael Shannon delivers his best performance yet as a drunk detective who likes to crack himself up with bad jokes(he cracked up the Sundance audience too.) Amy Ryan, Margaret Colin, and a bunch of other familiar faces provide moments of humor and sadness. Mostly what impressed me about "The Missing Person" was that it wasn't hip or clever. And not fancy either. In fact it was almost the opposite of every movie I saw at Sundance. It was mostly just good, honest film-making . Rare qualities indeed in independent film these days.

After seeing "Neal Cassady" at the Woodstock Film Festival last year, I was interested to see what young director Noah Buschel would do with the noir genre. I was not disappointed.

Like his beat "biopic," Buschel turns the genre right on it's head and makes something completely fresh and new. "The Missing Person" has very little to do with it's surface elements, and much more to do with innovative and original film-making.

Michael Shannon delivers his best performance to date. It's him in full movie star wattage. He looks great, he sounds great, and he makes a great damaged hero. The rest of the cast is so superb you almost wish there was more of them in the film.

Perhaps the best use of jazz music I've heard in a film.

There will be those who want a faster paced movie. More violence and quickness and loudness. They should just watch "Brick." That was a good example of a shallow neo-noir. This is not "Brick." This is a deep and unique film about loss. And also, somehow, a hilarious film about loss.

Geoffrey Gilmore, the festival director, introduced "The Missing Person" the night I saw it at Sundance. He said that it was the first film accepted at Sundance this year and that Buschel was doing something no one else was doing right now, which was going back to old forms and making them new again. A lost art, he said. Something that 70's directors used to do a lot.

The key point he made was that "The Missing Person" was an utterly unique film in the guise of a noir film. I couldn't agree more.

Michael Shannon is one of the finest new character actors working in films today; his performance here as a private investigator from New York, hired to trail a middle-aged man from Chicago to Los Angeles by train, is the centerpiece of "The Missing Person"...and is very nearly the entire show. Writer-director Noah Buschel was probably hoping to modernize the old private eye clichés (including booze, broads, and blaring saxophones on the soundtrack), but his movie doesn't really start cooking for at least a quarter of an hour into the proceedings. Buschel's pacing is deliberately slow, and Shannon's John Rosow is intentionally beleaguered and burnt-out, yet there's no reason to be so poky with this narrative (even Bogie livened up earlier on one of his cases). The film is well-produced and shot, though it runs the risk of losing viewers before it starts to take shape. Once it does, it becomes a rather fascinating throwback, its scenario seesawing between the old and new--like Philip Marlowe in the cell-phone era. **1/2 from ****

Can't tell you how hard I tried to like "The Missing Person". Right off the bat, you can see it is an imitation noir, an attempt to recall a bygone era in movies, and they got a down-at-the-heels, alcoholic 'private eye' to be the hero - and being a likable sort, you root for him. The color is not splashy but almost a sepia, two-tone effect that works well with the mood of the picture.

However.

As noted by several reviewers, it takes forever to get going but then maintains the same slow, plodding pace throughout the film. And the hero, played by Michael Shannon, severely underplays his part and seems to be in a stupor in some scenes, so sluggish does he appear. That may be what the director was looking for, but he is at times in danger of fading into the wallpaper and losing command of what are essentially his scenes. Lastly, too much plot explanation was saved for the final scenes and became almost too much to absorb; It makes you wonder if you got the gist of the story.

I hope this was a learning experience for director Buschel and I applaud his effort and concept. I hope he makes more and better pictures. And I hope he is not offended by the fact that a highlight of the movie for me was Thelonious Monk's version of an old standard, "I Don't Stand A Ghost Of A Chance", played over the final credits. It was perfection, a haunting rendition played slowly and using very few fingers.