The Indian Runner

Deceived by the title, pondering over a bizarre story, the Indian Runner became like his message: hard to come by. The insinuated events left little true action except for the killing at the beginning. It might be interesting to watch it, though not at a late hour, since it provides too little fascination. Solely enchanting Particia Arquette saved the film from receiving an even lower rating. Good idea, but ...

The only reason I wanted to see The Indian Runner was because of the stunning multi-talented Viggo Mortensen. But I have to admit that this movie touched me. When it finished I sat for about half an hour just thinking 'why?'

The movie moves along quite slowly but I think it was meant to. Penn wanted us to see, feel and identify with the characters. To witness the bond between the two brothers and Frank's struggle to tame himself.

And we do. Viggo shows amazing range as an actor here and is easily one of the best films he has ever done. We see Frank go from relaxed to angry to livid to sorrowful and are drawn in to his tortured soul. Mortensen makes us want to feel for the character and we desperately want him to be happy. His emotions evoke a wide range of emotions in ourselves. His performance is nothing short of astounding. We never know if we are meant to hate Frank or feel sorry for him but we gradually begin to love him and want to understand why he is so angry with the world due to Mortensen's performance. Where was the Oscar this year???

The rest of the cast shine as well. David Morse is utterly convincing as a man trying to salvage the last remains of his disintergrating family and the actress who plays his wife is equally good.

All I can say is WATCH IT!

I've often argued with myself whether Sean Penn is a better actor or director, but the truth is he's just as captivating a storyteller whether on camera or behind it, and The Indian Runner is a bold testament to the latter, a somber, tragic family drama that leaves the viewer reeling with it's hard luck characters and sorrowful resolutions. Set in the heartlands sometime after the Viet Nam war, Penn's focus is on two brothers who have been at odds with each other years. David Morse's Joe is a farmer turned cop, an even tempered, recent family man with a loving wife (Valeria Golino, what ever happened to her?) and his shit firmly together. Viggo Mortensen's Frank is a volatile, hotheaded veteran, the little brother with a big chip on his shoulder, a fiery temper and wires crossed somewhere deep inside. From the get-go there's tension, and when Frank brings home a naive girl (Patricia Arquette) to start some semblance of a family, trouble really brews. There's hints from director Penn of his own internal turmoil, two wolves that roil against one another represented by the brothers onscreen, and the inevitable violence begotten from the hostile one. It's so strange seeing Mortensen in a role like this, miles removed from not only the stalwart Aragorn we're used to, but from anything else he has ever done in his choosy, sparse career. This is the role of a lifetime for any actor and it's the one he should be remembered for, a maladjusted outsider who rages against civility and can't be controlled, to his own demise and detriment. Morse is always a slow burner, and takes it laconically here, but there's a sadness that burns at the corners of his eyes which the actor exudes achingly well. Arquette captures the stars her character has in her eyes for Frank, and tragically lets them fall in disillusionment when she realizes he's not the man she thought she knew, a splendid arc for the actress to breathe life into. The brother's patriarch is played by a low key, heartbreaking Charles Bronson, probably the last role in which he actually gets to *act*, and not just play a tough guy. He's full of complexity and depth in his brief appearance here, and knocks it out of the park. Dennis Hopper has an extended cameo as an antagonistic bartender, and Benicio Del Toro is apparently somewhere in it as well as he's in the credits, but I honestly couldn't spot him anywhere. The film subtly tackles everything from implied PTSD to biblical references to near mythic aspirations built around a legend that explains the title, but more than anything it's about something as simple as can be: How circumstances shape human beings, how trauma affects us and the ways we interact with each other, what it means to exist and make choices. Penn's fascination with these themes is obvious, skilled and nears profundity in dedication to story and character. A brilliant piece in need of far more exposure than its ever gotten.

I spent over a decade watching and reviewing films for my job at MTV Europe. Even before and since I voraciously consume cinema of truly all kinds as a passion, I don't care about genre or even subject, only that a work is honest, inspired, effective. As with any art, of course.

I saw The Indian Runner at its Cannes film festival debut in 1991 and left the Grand Palais screening speechless. Where to start? We often hear about the usual checklist of script, acting, cinematography, editing, music, and so on, and of course all are stellar here. But it's the magic of the mix of all these and so many more subtleties about the experience of this film that makes it not just a terrific, achingly beautiful thing, moving, illuminating, but, I believe, having revisited it so many times over the last thirteen years (like so very few others among the hundreds seen once), one that is important and bound for a belated re- positioning as a cinematic gem in the history books of the future.

Cassavetes is clearly a major force behind this in the best possible way; he'd have stood up and applauded the way Penn took his spirit, his openness and gave it a more cinematic scope, color, pace, size, without compromising his own direct gaze on the human condition. Before this film Cassavetes' huge contribution had not been properly picked up, the baton in some respects still dangling where the late auteur had left it years back. In Indian Runner Penn points the way forward for this bold tone of cinematic voice (in a way to my mind even more clear than in his subsequent The Crossing Guard and The Pledge). The moment at the start of the film when Joe's dead victim's father begins singing a work song at the police station still stands out as the revelation that this movie had its own palette. I could go on and on but I'd probably bore... even ME (like Frank, no?).

What struck me in Cannes and forever since is how this massive achievement was so overlooked by other critics and then the public. I felt I was simply out of step but never wavered in my commitment to the film as a private cause which I'm pleased to say everyone I've talked into seeing it has agreed during exciting post-mortems. Also, as with great works in general, I notice it only gets better with repeated visits over the years. And seeing the comments about it on this site has cheered me up no end. I'm not alone!

It's one thing for a film to endure; another entirely for it to emerge from obscurity years after it was made and left aside. That very trajectory, likely, it seems now, for The Indian Runner, is going to become one of its many very special qualities. Conversations about its simple and complex strengths are gaining a new dimension with this look into what it was that made it so inaccessible to most of its viewers for its first decade and what it is and will be that finally unmasks the gem that until now was so oddly neglected. Suddenly it's on DVD and people are discussing it. Could it be good taste or whatever you call this kind of appreciation is on the rise? Wow. Reasons to be cheerful indeed.

And for those of us who first came across Viggo Mortenson here, imagine how itchy it made us sitting through his fine but passionless Lord of the Rings!

Here's to poetry, vision, and honesty about pain and life without judgment. Lord knows it's rare these days.

A great melodrama in a small town during the seventies about two grown-up brothers; Joe (David Morse), is married and a deputy sheriff who seems to be highly devoted to his job. Frank (Viggo Mortensen), who is the younger one of the pair, comes back from Vietnam even though he has the habit of being a troublemaker.

Morse and Mortensen are nothing short of excellent in their performances and are backed up by a solid supporting cast (Valerina Gorlino, Patricia Arquette, Dennis Hopper, Sandy Dennis, and Charles Bronson). Out of the bunch, Bronson is the one to watch here as the boys' quiet and solemn father and he treats it to perfection. In one scene, he tells Joe while they're sitting out on the porch that he was wrong about Joe marrying Maria (Gorlino), who is Mexican.

There another surprise that makes the film more compelling to watch is that it's the directing and writing debut of actor Sean Penn. The movie was inspired by the Bruce Springsteen song that's called "Highway Patrolman".

Anthony Richmond's cinematography is extroadinary and the musical score by the late Jack Nitzsche is very solid.

"The Indian Runner" presented a rare and very interesting question to me: "Why doesn't any movie director make a film that shows the two sides (bright and dark) of the director themself?"

In conclusion, this movie is intelligent and seriously moving. And it shows that Penn can write and direct beside act.