***Some Minor Spoilers***
Shotgun Stories takes a while to bust out the shotguns. I was feeling a little itchy waiting.
I'll save you the trouble of wondering: it was worth it.
This tragic indie-drama focuses on a blood-feud which spirals toward the clash of two sets of half-brothers. Son, played by the underrated Michael Shannon, and his younger brothers, Boy and Kid, were abandoned by their drunken father early in life. After the separation, their father went on to sober up, find Jesus, and raise a Mulligan-family of four brothers born of his second wife. His new family (the Hayes), operate a successful farm, which the reformed father built once he crawled out from the bottle and into Jesus's hands.
Son, Boy, and Kid are impoverished - Boy lives in his van, Kid in a tent outside Son's trailer - so it's no surprise that they hate the Hayes and the life their father built for them. Then one night their vengeful mother shows up at Son's house to inform the three brothers that their father is dead.
Hitherto we've only seen Son as a quiet, relatively pacifist protagonist. The turning point is when he interrupts the funeral with his brothers in tow, demanding to speak.
With all the Hayes family in attendance, he basically calls their father a piece of crap. He caps it off by spitting on the old man's casket.
That's when I busted out the popcorn.
The second wife intercedes to prevent an outright brawl, and Son and his brothers depart without any violence, but there's not a doubt in my mind that this is only the beginning. The Hayes brothers, befuddled by grief for the good man they knew as their father, are out for blood, and Son, Boy, and Kid are happily willing to unleash their lifetime of rancor for the man they knew as a violent drunk.
Writer-director Jeff Nichol's impressive debut is unmistakably indie in tone and theme. There's a lot of 'negative space' here: a character stares off into the distance, and the audience must decipher a tick of the eyebrow or quirk of the lips. Son's character carries the majority of the weight there: a lesser actor might have sunk the project, but Michael Shannon packs marvelous punch with his limited dialogue, and he manages the 'simple man' affect without seeming dumb. Au contraire. His long pauses and nuanced expression deliver the exact opposite: we see an intelligent man who's slow to speak his mind (and is even something of a doormat when it comes to confrontation) but - once the tension and violence amp up - doesn't hesitate to defend himself and his family.
Plot-wise, the violence is brutal and gut-wrenching, but it isn't the focus. The worst of it all occurs off-screen, and the gamble pays off. Shotgun Stories' global themes specifically deglorify violence.
Most of us haven't incited a familial feud by spitting on our deadbeat dad's casket, but the themes of senseless division and reckless hate are more prescient than ever. Whether it's Shiites and Sunnis or Republicans and Democrats, we're all too aware of the cultures of division, partisanship, and sectarianism. The viewer will undoubtedly connect to Shotgun Stories and its overarching theme. While you won't find any Juliet to Son's Romeo- besides perhaps his wife, who's just left him at the film's opening scene- there are definite parallels between the age-old Capulet-Montague dynamic. Considering the self-defeatism the film portrays as inherent to such a conflict, one might argue it reaches back to Shakespeare's own source material, the Greek tragedy. The deeper Son and his brothers delve into the conflict brewing with the Hayes clan, the more we come to understand that nothing good can possibly come of it.
Besides Shannon, the acting is good but not noteworthy, excepting perhaps Son's wife (Nicole Canerday), the criminal but likable Shampoo (G. Alan Wilkins, an apparent nobody who I'd love to see more from), and Cleaman Hayes (Michael Abbot Jr.). Cleaman's character stands out especially as the single reasonable Hayes brother, and Abbot's acting delivers a convincing portrait of a brother trying to keep the peace but unwilling to let his brothers fight a war on their own.
Aside from Cleaman, however, the Hayes closely resemble human-shaped turds. I spent a decent portion of the film hoping Son would go grab that promised shotgun and finish them already, even knowing the film wasn't headed that direction. If I had any major complaint with Shotgun Stories, it's that it didn't fully convince me that the majority of the Hayes didn't deserve to be wiped from the face of the earth, which is clearly not what the film aimed for. Aside from Cleaman, two of the brothers are all but villainized, and the final brother has the screen-presence of a wet noodle. Though Son is the unquestioned protagonist, Nichols wanted me to sympathize with the Hayes brothers as the other side of the same coin, which I simply couldn't do. Regardless of the fact that Son did spit on their daddy's casket, I couldn't see the Hayes as anything but instigators and 'the bad guys' until the end, which was too late a reversal for me to buy in. I'll give Nichols a pass, though, since he met, and sometimes surpassed, the mark he aimed for everywhere else.
Overall I'm glad a TRUSTED friend recommend this; otherwise, I might have bailed early on an amazing film. While the themes and acting are powerful, the opening is slow, and I wouldn't recommend it to everyone. It's a little more in-your-head than the average American viewer might want from even a drama. Regardless, I'd stand by it as a recommendation for anyone looking for a character-driven story heavy on themes of family loyalty and the hopelessness of hatred.
Shotgun Stories takes a while to bust out the shotguns. I was feeling a little itchy waiting.
I'll save you the trouble of wondering: it was worth it.
This tragic indie-drama focuses on a blood-feud which spirals toward the clash of two sets of half-brothers. Son, played by the underrated Michael Shannon, and his younger brothers, Boy and Kid, were abandoned by their drunken father early in life. After the separation, their father went on to sober up, find Jesus, and raise a Mulligan-family of four brothers born of his second wife. His new family (the Hayes), operate a successful farm, which the reformed father built once he crawled out from the bottle and into Jesus's hands.
Son, Boy, and Kid are impoverished - Boy lives in his van, Kid in a tent outside Son's trailer - so it's no surprise that they hate the Hayes and the life their father built for them. Then one night their vengeful mother shows up at Son's house to inform the three brothers that their father is dead.
Hitherto we've only seen Son as a quiet, relatively pacifist protagonist. The turning point is when he interrupts the funeral with his brothers in tow, demanding to speak.
With all the Hayes family in attendance, he basically calls their father a piece of crap. He caps it off by spitting on the old man's casket.
That's when I busted out the popcorn.
The second wife intercedes to prevent an outright brawl, and Son and his brothers depart without any violence, but there's not a doubt in my mind that this is only the beginning. The Hayes brothers, befuddled by grief for the good man they knew as their father, are out for blood, and Son, Boy, and Kid are happily willing to unleash their lifetime of rancor for the man they knew as a violent drunk.
Writer-director Jeff Nichol's impressive debut is unmistakably indie in tone and theme. There's a lot of 'negative space' here: a character stares off into the distance, and the audience must decipher a tick of the eyebrow or quirk of the lips. Son's character carries the majority of the weight there: a lesser actor might have sunk the project, but Michael Shannon packs marvelous punch with his limited dialogue, and he manages the 'simple man' affect without seeming dumb. Au contraire. His long pauses and nuanced expression deliver the exact opposite: we see an intelligent man who's slow to speak his mind (and is even something of a doormat when it comes to confrontation) but - once the tension and violence amp up - doesn't hesitate to defend himself and his family.
Plot-wise, the violence is brutal and gut-wrenching, but it isn't the focus. The worst of it all occurs off-screen, and the gamble pays off. Shotgun Stories' global themes specifically deglorify violence.
Most of us haven't incited a familial feud by spitting on our deadbeat dad's casket, but the themes of senseless division and reckless hate are more prescient than ever. Whether it's Shiites and Sunnis or Republicans and Democrats, we're all too aware of the cultures of division, partisanship, and sectarianism. The viewer will undoubtedly connect to Shotgun Stories and its overarching theme. While you won't find any Juliet to Son's Romeo- besides perhaps his wife, who's just left him at the film's opening scene- there are definite parallels between the age-old Capulet-Montague dynamic. Considering the self-defeatism the film portrays as inherent to such a conflict, one might argue it reaches back to Shakespeare's own source material, the Greek tragedy. The deeper Son and his brothers delve into the conflict brewing with the Hayes clan, the more we come to understand that nothing good can possibly come of it.
Besides Shannon, the acting is good but not noteworthy, excepting perhaps Son's wife (Nicole Canerday), the criminal but likable Shampoo (G. Alan Wilkins, an apparent nobody who I'd love to see more from), and Cleaman Hayes (Michael Abbot Jr.). Cleaman's character stands out especially as the single reasonable Hayes brother, and Abbot's acting delivers a convincing portrait of a brother trying to keep the peace but unwilling to let his brothers fight a war on their own.
Aside from Cleaman, however, the Hayes closely resemble human-shaped turds. I spent a decent portion of the film hoping Son would go grab that promised shotgun and finish them already, even knowing the film wasn't headed that direction. If I had any major complaint with Shotgun Stories, it's that it didn't fully convince me that the majority of the Hayes didn't deserve to be wiped from the face of the earth, which is clearly not what the film aimed for. Aside from Cleaman, two of the brothers are all but villainized, and the final brother has the screen-presence of a wet noodle. Though Son is the unquestioned protagonist, Nichols wanted me to sympathize with the Hayes brothers as the other side of the same coin, which I simply couldn't do. Regardless of the fact that Son did spit on their daddy's casket, I couldn't see the Hayes as anything but instigators and 'the bad guys' until the end, which was too late a reversal for me to buy in. I'll give Nichols a pass, though, since he met, and sometimes surpassed, the mark he aimed for everywhere else.
Overall I'm glad a TRUSTED friend recommend this; otherwise, I might have bailed early on an amazing film. While the themes and acting are powerful, the opening is slow, and I wouldn't recommend it to everyone. It's a little more in-your-head than the average American viewer might want from even a drama. Regardless, I'd stand by it as a recommendation for anyone looking for a character-driven story heavy on themes of family loyalty and the hopelessness of hatred.