Mojave

This neo-noir should have been better. It could easily have culled an 8 from me. But the writing did not deliver. It's almost as if the writer-director lost a bet, and had to pull out the plot points that meant the difference between this being a good film people would talk about, vs something no one's heard of. Which is a shame, because the writer-director is one of hollywood's most lauded writers going.

I'm soft for desert movies. This one starts out well. Then it moved to L.A. and fast lost its momentum, its pacing, and sill in plotting. And Mark Wahlberg's part? Just filler. Same with Goggins. Literally nothing more than someone for the protagonist to speak to so we don't have to use thought bubbles. In fact, most of the other actors that have talking don't need them, because they don't go anywhere in the story.

If you're watching this in hopes of a twist, then don't bother. There is none.

Otherwise, there's oddly inserted literary references that would only come from a director who was also a writer. Shakespeare, Melville, don't add to the story. They barely even fulfill the purpose of making this story feel more philosophical.

A screenwriter who submitted this script would have been rejected if he was new. Something this flawed could only get greenlit if the writer was already A-list, as this writer was. It violates one of the so called "rules" of scriptwriting -- that every scene, every act, every word, has some role in moving the story forward. This one had too many that didn't.

It's an ages-old conceit that experienced hollywood filmmakers like to make films about hollywood that reveal its meaninglessness, its shallowness, its callous narcissism. This one does all that. Complete with asskissing personal assistants or bedraggled personal assistants. PAs are the lifeblood of the industry, but are rarely depicted in compelling ways. This film is no exception. But not in an instructive nor satisfying way.

Films are too expensive to make merely to make a statement that the film biz doesn't matter. But this one sure works hard at it.

Poor thriller reuniting Garrett Hedlund and Oscar Isaac a few years after they drove to Chicago together with John Goodman in Inside Llewyn Davis. Both are more or less on equal footing here, though. Hedlund plays a screenwriter who goes out to the Mojave to commit suicide. Instead, he meets up with dangerous drifter Isaac who pops into camp obviously just to kill him. Instinctively he resists death, but in the process angers the drifter. When Hedlund returns to civilization, Isaac follows him, hoping to continue their game of death. Not much about this works. Hedlund is a boring actor, and Isaac gives his worst performance ever, at least since he's been a star. You'd think the script must have looked great on paper, but the dialogue comes off as silly and desperately trying to be cool. Walton Goggins and Mark Wahlberg also waste their time in this. It does look good, and it has a few good moments, but, in general, it's just bad.

There are some writers who seem to think if they quote Shakespeare and Herman Melville within their own work, they might automatically be regarded as possessing a higher level of intellect - not so, and Mojave offers a reasonable example as proof. Here we have writer/director William Monahan (The Departed) doing just this in a rather lame attempt to dress up his lowly 'character' study about a suicidal 'artist' (why suicidal? because he has success and luxury laid on, a loving wife and delightful young daughter who idolizes him) I ask, what better reason could you have for wanting to commit suicide?. Borrowing a leaf from the Travers character in Paris Texas our 'artist' wanders into tho desert to explore how many ways he can kill himself. Failing at several, he appears to settle on drinking himself to death.

While still in the desert he meets another equally disturbed fellow who is obviously quite happy to do him in. Instead of excepting the offer, our suicide contender suddenly decides he won't allow this and begins looking at ways of murdering this chap - another perfectly reasonable idea! The ensuing cat and mouse game goes on interminably, with each man sprouting endless expletives & pseudo-psycho-babble as they attempt to kill each other...as well as any innocent by-standers who just happen to get in their way.

All this might sound most interesting to those who enjoy Tarantino type nonsense but, any thinking viewer might beware. Is there anything that's good in all this?. The desert is well photographed, Oscar Isaac and Garrett Hedlund are occasionally OK in the leads and some bits of the score music by UK born Andrew Hewitt are quite interesting. As for the supporting cast, Walton Goggins' character is so bad it's laughable, as is Mark Walberg's foul mouthed sex obsessed producer.

Cultists may enjoy the over-the-top foolishness but this is supposed to be a dramatic modern classic!. Next thing to down right awful nastiness.

"This started in the desert and it's gonna end there. You understand? This has to play out." Thomas (Hedlund) has headed out to the desert in hopes to find himself or at least meaning to his life. When Jack (Isaac) shows up Thomas thinks something is a little off. After Jack's intentions are shown it becomes a game of cat and mouse, that doesn't end when they leave the desert. This is not a bad movie and does have it's moments, the problem is that it is just not that memorable. There is some tenseness and excitement to this and the acting is very well done but there is just something missing. I don't mean to sound so harsh toward this movie, but I watched it 2 days ago and can't actually remember enough about it for this review. That has never happened to me before. Overall, not bad, but nothing that will stick with you. This could have been better. I give this a C+.

Something that looks like a 'film', specifically this term and the aesthetic to which it implies, I feel has come to be expected of contemporary dramas/character studies. Mojave knows it. It looks to tick a lot of these archetypal boxes: jaded, frustrated characters, blatant motifs (the temptation of Christ?), a redemptive narrative, an undertone of despair that never loosens up until the end of the last arc. Yes with all these elements motivating it's narrative, the movie never achieves a sense of coherency; it's Hitchcockian one moment with it's intermittent key score, and then Fincher-esque the next with it's sweeping pans and use of negative space in shots. It's an actor's playground that, as charming and talented as all the individuals are, doesn't leave a lot for the audience to soak in, unless you really, really like angry, shout-y Mark Wahlberg, who is playing quite possibly the closest characterisation to his real life personality in this role. I never fully understood the goal of the protagonist... I guess it had something to do with doing the right thing and his daughter? Too much Tyler Durton syndrome in concepts like these I feel.