Matchstick Men
review by Dan
Lybarger, 12 September 2003
Normally known for making films
with large sets, eye-popping special effects and bone-crunching
action, it's nice to know that Sir Ridley Scott (Alien, Blade
Runner, Gladiator and Black Hawk Down) can handle
human stories with roughly the same skill that he orchestrates
spectacle.
Roy Harrell (Nicolas Cage) may feel
bad about being a con artist, but he takes a lot of pride in the
fact that he handles the job exceptionally well. When forced to
admit how he makes a crooked living, he hedges and then baldly
states what he does with a loud emphasis on "artist." Roy
and his partner Frank Mercer (Sam Rockwell) have such a finely tuned
routine that they can hit the same victim twice without being
detected.
The problem for Roy is that the
same traits that enable him to successfully hoodwink a mark twice
make his personal life a nightmare. Roy has to keep his home clean
to the point of sterility. Visitors, in the rare moments when they
do come, can't wear shoes on his immaculately maintained rug. He
also has an aversion to sunlight that makes him practically a mole
when he's not on the job. It gets worse when his medication runs
out. Roy tries to hit up a new shrink for pills, but to Roy's regret
his new psychiatrist (Bruce Altman) is more interested in digging
through his psyche than loading him with meds.
In the process venting to poor
doctor, Roy discovers that he has a teenage daughter he's never met.
Angela (Alison Lohman) is a giddy rambunctious bundle of energy who
also shows up at home unannounced and leaves messes. She also seems
to give her newfound dad a sense of satisfaction he's been missing
for a long time. She's fascinated by dad's work and, to his glee,
takes to it easily.
Whereas a lot of filmmakers might
have Roy absorbed with guilt over his daughter's decision to follow
in his crooked footsteps, Scott and screenwriters Nicholas Griffin
and Ted Griffin, working from Eric Garcia's book, have Roy wavering
between minor pangs of guilt and gushing admiration of Angela's
budding skill. This more complicated approach allows Cage, in a role
he was born to play, to exercise his fondness for quirky characters
and physical ticks without reducing the tale into an emotional freak
show. Cage thankfully keeps Roy human enough to keep him interesting
and even likable in his darkest moments. The flamboyant Rockwell
serves as an able counterpart, brashly complementing Roy's
withdrawal. Lohman, however, is something of a revelation. Despite
being a decade older than her character, she's completely convincing
as a teen and achieves just the right blend of innocence and lethal
curiosity.
The Griffin brothers -- Ted
scripted Steven Soderbergh's Oceans Eleven --
expectedly churn out some tasty dialogue (Angela: “You
don't seem like a bad guy.” Roy: ”That's why I'm so good at
it”.), but their real achievement is taking story elements like
having a crook see a psychiatrist (as in The Sopranos and Analyze
This) and still make them seem fresh.
Scott for his part doesn't let his
smaller canvas cramp his sense of style. Having started in
commercials, Scott uses color and sound with remarkable finesse,
accenting Roy's sense of isolation. His primarily Rat Pack era song
soundtrack (the newest tune is an ‘80's entry from Roxy Music) and
Hans Zimmer's organ score put the viewer in Roy's socks nicely.
What's most interesting about Matchstick
Men is that Roy's condition is not explicitly described as
obsessive-compulsive disorder, but alert viewers can figure it out
on their own. Scott and company have approached the film
intelligently and have thankfully credited their viewers with having
brains as well. |