* * * *
MISSISSIPPI GRIND. Directed by Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck, with Ryan Reynolds and Ben Mendelsohn. Sienna.
REVIEW: David Rooney
“THE journey’s the destination, sweetheart,” says Curtis, a slick gambler played by Reynolds with the air of a man who almost believes his winning streak is unbreakable. That statement encapsulates both the beauty and the limitations of this latest film by writer-director team Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck, a meandering road movie enriched by its fine-grained study of character and milieu, but somewhat lethargic and momentum-deprived in terms of narrative. Still, admirers of the filmmakers’ previous work will find the rambling ride intoxicating, not least for its affectionate tip of the hat to Robert Altman’s California Split.
While their film is played less for comedy, Boden and Fleck borrow their central character dynamic from Altman’s 1974 classic. They pair a slick pro with a down-on-his-luck poker player who tags along in his friend’s seemingly magical wake, from racetracks to floating card games to casinos. But Mississippi Grind acknowledges a debt to a spate of old films.
The film that put the writer-directors on the Sundance map in 2006, Half Nelson, was only in part about the drug addiction of its main character. In the same way, this new film is less a direct examination of the compulsion of gambling, than it is a soulful reflection on the desperation of men who buy into the unreliable dream that a windfall will satisfy their longings.
That subdued air of melancholy, along with a gentle strain of humour, runs through the film much like the river that shapes the two men’s journey as they head from Iowa, via multiple gambling stops, to a $25,000-stake high-roller poker game in New Orleans. And while the tone is relaxed and playful, the underlying sadness comes through, perhaps most poignantly in Reynolds’ Curtis, in moments when his effortless charisma and unflappable confidence don’t quite hide the needling glimmers of self-frustration or loneliness.
Opposite him, Mendelsohn plays Gerry, a haggard-looking schlub with an estranged ex-wife (Robin Weigert) and daughter behind him and a whole mountain of gambling debts. Weigert and Woodard have just one absolutely terrific scene apiece, but they nail a complete history of affection turned to dwindling forbearance for Gerry’s failings. The movie’s chief pleasure is watching Mendelsohn in a wonderful role that’s both shifty and sincere, taking maximum advantage of the Australian actor’s hangdog appeal and sauntering physicality.
Since Gerry’s day job as a third-rate real estate broker is never going to get him out of the hole, he hitches his wagon to Curtis after they meet. Breezing into town on the back of a picture-book rainbow, Curtis obviously enjoys spreading his lucky-charm largesse.
Curtis claims that he doesn’t care about winning and just likes to play, never succumbing to Gerry’s flaw of not knowing when to quit. But despite the in-control exterior he presents, Curtis is just as stuck on the seesaw of chance.
The film casts a spell moment to moment, although its pacing demands considerable patience and its cumulative effect doesn’t deliver in conventional terms. It ends, perhaps inevitably, on a note of ambiguity, in which each man may change direction or more likely continue down the same path.
True to the storytelling principles that have shaped their movies, Boden and Fleck are interested mainly in observing the ways in which Curtis and Gerry pull together and draw apart, deceiving one another out of self-interest and then opening up out of a desire to connect to a kindred spirit. – Reuters/ Hollywood Reporter