American Buffalo (1996)

THEY HAD A PLAN. IT WASN'T WORTH A NICKEL.

David Mamet is a writer who knows a thing or two about the ways of desperate men, primarily because all men are desperate. A primary concern of his is the idea of a man’s struggle to reach the top, to get just one shot at the brass ring. Surely it runs that for every one guy that reaches his goal and makes it all the way, there are dozens who don’t. These are the ones Mamet looks at. Even if they think they’ve given up, got too old to for the fight, or have convinced themselves that they’re happy where they are, it only takes the least little glimmer of light and they will do some pretty messed up stuff to make the grab. Back in 1975, Mamet wrote a play about this very idea, centred around two men, one boy and a coin.

Don (Dennis Franz) runs an inner-city junk shop, and feels rather put out when he discovers he sold a coin for much less than it was worth. He decides to rob the man he sold it to with the help of teenager Bob (Sean Nelson). On finding out about the plan, Don’s friend Teach (Dustin Hoffman) proposes a new plan, where he’s in, Bob’s out and the job becomes about more than just a coin.

It’s pretty hard to poke holes in the script for American Buffalo, which Mamet himself adapted from his own play. Considering that upon its debut, it would win awards for Best New Play, has been revived on Broadway a few times and, in 1983, was called “one of the best American plays of the last decade” by New York Times critic Frank Rich. It’s an absolutely blazing work, full of anger, spite and real tension. Part of what makes it interesting is that it is, effectively, a ‘heist gone wrong’ story, but here the heist goes wrong before it’s even begun. These characters think they know what they’re doing, and to some degree, they actually might. However, whatever skills they may have don’t mesh and they are in constant conflict over every detail of the proposed venture. They trade notions of ‘what if’ as if it were a gunfight, crippling themselves by trying to outthink the other. It’s classic paralysis through analysis. The dialogue is fierce, profane, incendiary… it’s pure David Mamet. Teach is something of a self-anointed gutter philosopher, pontificating viciously on life and the way of the world. “The world is lies. There is no friendship,” says Teach. It’s precisely this kind of bitter cynicism that has held him back all this time, but he genuinely sees no other way it could work. If the world was fair, he’d be better of, but he isn’t. The world has cheated him out of what is his, so parrots this behaviour back to other people. He’s the kind of borderline nutcase who thinks that everyone is just like him and to pretend otherwise is a sure way to get taken. Don is the same, only he’s convinced that he’s stepped back from the fray, watching it all go by from the window of his shop. As he tells his student, Bob “There are people on this street, they want this, they want that, do anything to get it. You don’t have friends this life.” It’s twisted, it’s cruel, it’s mean and he really does mean it.

Considering that there are only three actors ever seen on screen, it is important for them to make their presence felt… and lord, do they work for it. Sean Nelson doesn’t nearly have enough time of screen as the other two, but he keeps his end up very well. Bob clearly wants to please his friend and learn from him, but he’s just not quite able to hold the same level of cynicism as Don and Teach, perhaps because he knows that, young as he is, he still has a shot. Dennis Franz continues his great line in searing looks that served him so well in the interrogation scenes in NYPD Blue. Don is tough, and seems to have let go of unrealistic dreams of the big time, but it’s an act that’s there largely to fool himself. The fire still burns in him, even if it’s just a little bit. All he needs is for the window to open just a little bit and it’ll burn him up all over again. Franz carries this so well. However, as it would be, it’s Hoffman that steals the show. Teach is fierce. He can’t let things go, either because he’s too stubborn or too dumb to recognise when he’s beat. He thinks everyone has an angle or a cheat or a con or some way that gives them the unfair advantage over him. Where Don has let his inner fire cool over the years, Teach is still consumed by his. He’s a man frustrated and Hoffman is a ball of tension and anger. Also, what continues to amaze me about Hoffman is that even though he is this short, unassuming guy, he can still be very intimidating when he wants to be. Just look at the scene where Teach and Don are quizzing Bob, who they think is acting suspiciously. All Hoffman does is sit in his chair and wheel it back and forth, staring at the boy. It’s menacing as hell. Both Franz and Hoffman work really well together, too. They keep great pace with each other, spitting the dialogue back and forth like they’re trading blows. It’s Mamet dialogue as a weapon in the hands of those who know how to use it.

Frankly, if there is one thing that lets down American Buffalo as a film, it’s Michael Corrente’s direction, which lacks any real invention to make it as completely searing as it could be. He certainly understands the high tempers of the piece, the feeling that what you’re watching is two fierce animals stalking around in a cage. At any moment, one of them could blow and someone will get hurt, but Corrente misses out on the capability of the camera. With the camera, you can get right in there with them, close enough to read their faces. However, the camera often keeps at a distance, not really wanting to get involved. Sure, it’s great to see Hoffman and Franz share the screening, sparring, throwing out their test punches, but you can get this from the stage production. Several times, the camera literally hides behind items in the junk shop, so we get a partially obscured vision of what’s going on. Also, there are moments where the framing of the piece would suggest that the two are on the same side, rather than in opposition, which is clearly the real heart of the matter. This is a boxing match, masquerading as a conversation. The performances more than meet this, but the camera does not.

American Buffalo is a superb script that’s acted with force and gusto, but the direction is just too unimaginative and lacklustre to really succeed as a film. The performances do make it absolutely superb watching, so it’s not exactly a wasteful watch. It would just have been better served under the direction of someone possessed of more visual flair.

Albino Alligator (1996)

DELIBERATE SACRIFICE FOR DELIBERATE GAIN

“They don’t make ‘em like they used to.” We’ve all heard that one before. It tends to get thrown around by those of the older generation who find themselves at a loss with the current standard of film or music or whatever the subject happens to be. It’s understandable to a degree. People tend to regard the past with more fondness than the present. However, times change, and standards change. What was unacceptable before is acceptable now, and vice versa. The most commonly repeated complaint is that, in movies, there’s less emphasis now on character or story, and more emphasis on special effects and the onomatopoeic thrills of booms and bangs. Every now and then, though, someone will attempt to address this idea. They’ll try and make something that feels old-fashioned. A character piece, or something suitably low-key that special effects can’t enter into. Such was the attempt made by actor Kevin Spacey with his directorial debut of Albino Alligator.

While escaping from a foiled robbery attempt, three thieves - Dova (Matt Dillon), Milo (Gary Sinise) and Law (William Fichtner) - try to hide out from the police in a basement bar. When they find themselves surrounded, they take the few patrons of the bar hostage and try to figure out a plan.

Albino Alligator is the first script from Christian Forte and, frankly, it is a poor start to proceedings. The basic premise is simple enough to allow character to be the most important aspect of the film. It’s not about cops or thieves or hostages - it’s a morality play. Morality plays rest on the simple conceit of what one person is being forced to do against everything they know about themselves and what they know to be right. For this to work, you need strong characters… and Albino Alligator has little in the way of strong characters. People here aren’t people, but conveniences for plot. If they aren’t being dealt with directly by the scene, they are completely forgotten. There are some attempts to give a hint of background story to some, like Jack’s potential drinking problem or Dova’s relationship woes, but they don’t work because they exist only as throwaway lines that get no further attention or development. The drama of the whole is also severely compromised by the frequent attempts at humour, which come out of nowhere and then leave just as quickly. The script just simply is not up to the challenge of what is a good central concept.

Considering the genuine anticipation behind what would be Kevin Spacey’s first film as director, there was quite a lot of expectation for Albino Alligator. In concept, it’s a good choice. It’s mainly single set, a handful of actors, little in the way of chase sequences or explosions, a high-tension morality play. This is the kind of thing people should be starting with, where they can build their skills in simply creating tension, mood, tone. With a solid script behind it and some great actors, this could really be something. Spacey even made a wise move and called veteran director Sidney Lumet to get tips on how to create a greater sense of claustrophobic tension similar to Lumet’s excellent 12 Angry Men. Sadly, it falls short of its intended target by some way. With exception of a single overhead shot of a car crash near the beginning, there is little in the way of real style or dramatic weight. Also, the camerawork is never still long enough to build tension. Any tips that Lumet may have given Spacey must have gone unheeded for some reason, because there is simply no sense of claustrophobia anywhere. The space feels empty, the frame feels empty. People have room to walk around, get away from each other. That Spacey allowed the film to occasionally leave the bar is an even more serious misstep. By leaving the bar for ham-fisted attempts at humour or to give information that is pretty meaningless, it gives the audience the chance to catch their breath. Spacey should be given some credit for the fact that it doesn’t feel stagey, which could have happened and he was probably quite conscious of, but that doesn’t really make up for things.

The cast, filled with some superb talent, are wasted or cast adrift with a rather disturbing frequency. Matt Dillon is the character we spend most time with, and Dova is of the sort that’s smart enough to know that he needs a plan, just not smart enough to think of one. Dillon is a little unsteady in the beginning, and does struggle with the attempts at humour, but does eventually find his feet. Gary Sinise does solid work, but he spends some of the film unconscious, so we don’t get much of him. William Fichtner is the strongest actor on show, completely becoming the kind of barely contained psychopath that serves to make up around 80% of the movie’s tension. The scene where he demands that Faye Dunaway take out a cigarette and put in his mouth is really imposing and creepy, and he's easily the most physical presence in the film. Faye Dunaway herself doesn’t come off too well. She has moments where she hits her stride wonderfully, but for the most part struggles to find the tone of the piece and so seems a little inconsistent. Pretty much everyone else is criminally wasted and underused, from Viggo Mortensen’s Quiet Guy Drinking Off-screen to John Spencer’s Slightly Less Quiet Guy Drinking Off-screen to Joe Mantegna’s Cop Standing Outside A Lot. Mantegna tries to give a little depth here and there, and Mortensen tries to give something too, but Spencer is almost completely ignored, which is shocking. They just don’t know what to do with him.

As it is, Albino Alligator is a thoroughly wasted opportunity. The cast try their best, with varying degrees of success, but the script is wrought with problems and the direction is unsteady and with little tonal consistency. The fact that there is a conscious attempt to make things feel old-fashioned serves to both cheapen the memory of the old stuff and cripple the credibility of this film. This could have been something of real simmering tension, atmosphere and moral ambiguity, but it simply doesn’t hold up.