Joe (2014)

Content by Tony Macklin. Originally published on April 28, 2014 @ tonymacklin.net.

Joe is a shaggy killer-dog story.

It has the trappings of reality, but it fakes it.

Joe is the tale of struggling Southerner Joe (Nicolas Cage), who bonds with 15-year old Gary (Tye Sheridan), who wants to work with him. Joe heads a group of hired men on a job to poison trees so that a lumber company can plant sturdier, more valuable ones.

Young Gary and his mother and sister are abused by his brutal ne'er-do-well father Wade (Gary Poulter).

Joe, who has raised a killer female bulldog, lives in a world of violence, which sent him to prison for 29 months for assaulting a police officer. He still battles to control his implulse for violence.

Wade is evil. He even makes a nefarious deal for $30 [30 pieces of silver].

Can Joe save Gary?

Joe is one of those films that try to capture authenticity, but it mimes it. It uses several local people from the Austin, Texas area instead of professional actors, and has a lot of improvised dialogue in its vain attempt at verisimilitude.

Two non-actors - e.g., Wade and a boss - gesticulating and yelling at each other is merely awkward contrivance. Synthetic "reality" does not make truth.

Nicolas Cage is the ideal actor to try to handle the role of Joe. He has made a career out of making pretension almost believable. Cage is a natural with his uncertain pensive expression. He is a simmering stew of fitful rumination.

Tye Sheridan is less comfortable in the role of the aggressive teen. He's uneven in his performance, but so is the role.

Gary Poulter - the non-actor who plays the degenerate Wade - is an actual homeless alcoholic, who died shortly after appearing in the film.

A film such as Joe makes me realize how much I miss good writing. The screenplay is credited to Gary Hawkins, adapting the novel by Larry Brown, but a lot of improvisation gets in the way. The film's dialogue often is stilted and clumsy.

Director David Gordon Green depends on music to cover the dialogue. In fact, he depends on the soundtrack music by Jeff McIlwain and David Wingo to cover everything. Even when Joe gives a pretentious philosophical speech, the music jitters on high notes. Take five, guys. Please.

It's ironic that in its compulsion to try to be authentic, Joe relies heavily on improvised dialogue and ceaseless music to try to reach its goal. And the pulpish ending is almost laughable.

Joe is like ill-fated Gary Poulter. He's a striking figure, but not a real actor. Joe may be a striking film, but it's not real.