5.5.13

Schenectady.

It's unusual to me to see movies with distinct acts anymore.  Sure, you can tease out story points and changes in tone.  You can track character arcs and suspect what may be coming next.  But to see legitimate acts, changes in focus from one character to another, with tonal qualities that are represented not only in the characters but in the film itself?  I feel like that's an art that isn't well-represented nowadays. 

And then there's The Place Beyond The Pines.

It's billed as a Ryan Gosling and Bradley Cooper movie about good guys and bad guys, cops and robbers.  It appeared in the trailers as action and suspense, with drama and maybe a love story thrown in for good measure.  I guess on the surface, that's an accurate representation.  Yet….not at all. 

I can't really figure out the right order to address all of the things in my head, so I'm just going to jump right in.

First of all, it's not a Ryan Gosling and Bradley Cooper movie.  It's a Ryan Gosling then Bradley Cooper movie.  The two characters share a scene together - a brief but intensely important scene that sets up the end of Act I and the beginning of Acts II and III.  When Gosling makes his swift exit, Cooper steps in to take the reins.  Gosling remains a presence through the rest of the film, but he is not shown again other than in a picture at the end.  Our bad guy has been defeated, ultimately, and our good guy has appeared to enjoy the spotlight.

Act I is the story of a tattoo-covered Gosling who learns he's a dad and tries to find a way to provide for his child - using his unique skillset and a friend's knowledge to rob banks.  As you can surmise, this doesn't end particularly well, leading to Gosling's departure from the film, through a window, early on. 

The cop who cornered our anti-hero becomes our new focus, single-handedly bringing down the corruption in his police department and working a promotion to ADA into the deal.  He's smarter than everyone around him and uses it to his advantage, all while caring for his own small child and wife.

Fifteen years pass and it appears that our old cop friend is now making a run for Attorney General, while working with his now-ex-wife to raise their teenage son.  Cooper takes a backseat here, to let his boy Avery (or AJ) take the lead, splitting the screen with new friend Jason.  These two become our third act focus, as we anxiously wait for the reveal that these two are more intimately connected than either could possibly be aware.

So three acts, each with a totally separate focus.  The narratives are clearly connected, but our POV has an effect on how we comprehend what we are seeing.  The filmmakers aren't satisfied with just giving us a new perspective, though.  The ways that they crafted the acts were impressive in and of themselves.  I'm not well versed in lighting and camera use to go into a lot of details, other than that there were choices clearly made to make each act look distinct, while still keeping the overall story uniform.  It was subtle, and it was wonderful to see. 

I can say though that I was particularly drawn to the use of shaky cam throughout the film.  In Act I, with Gosling's story front and center, there were scenes that didn't make a ton of sense to me to use shaky cam.  He wasn't necessarily running or jumping or doing anything crazy to necessitate it, but then it clicked.  The shaky cam was somehow tied to his emotion.  When he was panicking, or angry, or unstable, the shaky cam became more noticeable.  It was the strongest during the last couple scenes of Act I, as Bradley Cooper's character was introduced and Gosling's was reaching out to anything that could save him, trying to come to terms with the inescapable position he had gotten himself into.  And once that was over, the shaky cam ceased.  Cooper's character was much more self-sufficient, self-aware, and self-confident.  He did was was needed, he made decisions that were sound, and he stuck by them with surity.  The shaky cam only came back in bits and spurts after that, when things got hectic or panicked again - but never as long or as intensely as it was used with Gosling.  As we entered Act III, the shaky cam came back just a little bit - whether this was to tie Gosling's son to his father or just to show the imbalance within the two boys, I'm not sure.  But when they were steadfast in their decisions, the camera held still.  The more I think about it, the more this decision just seems genius.  Maybe they didn't plan it that way, but man did it work.