Riley Keough | Screenlife Reviews

Based on the Danish film of the same name, The Guilty follows Jake Gyllenhaal’s disgraced detective-turned-911 operator Joe Baylor on one slow night that evolves into a life-altering experience after receiving a terrifying call. Having previously worked with him on boxing drama Southpaw, Gyllenhaal enlists director Antoine Fuqua to helm what should be a completely edge-of-your-seat thriller; a film seemingly purpose built to showcase the incredible acting chops of its lead. While it absolutely delivers on that front, the story sags in the middle – the material not as engaging as the performance – on its way to a poignant and tragic finale that may not leave you as satisfied as you would like.

Following in the vein of films like Tom Hardy’s Locke, The Guilty takes place entirely within the confines of an emergency services operations centre – a device that works both to the film’s benefit and detriment – as Joe desperately struggles to locate distraught caller Emily (Riley Keough), who has seemingly been kidnapped by husband Henry (Peter Sarsgaard). All the action between Emily and Henry is played out entirely through phone conversations, as Joe attempts to extract as much information from the hostage as fast as he can under the guise of a call to her daughter (a thrilling sequence) amid furious denied requests to dispatch to have police sweep the area.

From the moment this phone call comes through Joe’s line there is a profound atmosphere of tension; we feel Joe’s desperation increasing with each passing moment and failed attempt to reconnect with Emily. Adding an extra wrinkle to the affair is the recent breakdown of his marriage and an ongoing mystery surrounding an appointment the next day that is clearly causing Joe a lot of stress. This is a man on the edge and Gyllenhaal completely owns it, his prickly demeanour growing into full blown rage and temper tantrums as he struggles to obtain control of yet another aspect of his life that is slipping through his fingers. It’s a career highlight performance for the star/producer to be sure; it is only due to Gyllenhaal’s charisma and commitment to the role that we’re kept invested in Joe’s story to the bitter end.

Unfortunately that story loses steam not long after the fateful phone call, as proceedings slow to what feels like an endless stream of fruitless calls; to fellow detectives, to Joe’s wife, to other emergency services. It serves to compound Joe’s frustrations but unfortunately puts the audience in the same boat, growing ever weary of the monotony and close to checking out. Thankfully the plot kicks back into gear with a breakneck final thirty minutes, as Joe’s personal and professional problems combine in a beautifully tragic yet cathartic way, but it doesn’t do much to hide the fact that this already short 90 minute film only has about an hour of story truly worth telling.

The Guilty without its star simply isn’t as compelling a film as it is with Gyllenhaal’s immense on-screen talents. Able to carry us through even the most tepid of telephone conversations, the journey through Joe Baylor’s psyche is wholly engrossing even if his immediate situation loses momentum at times. The supporting voice cast is stacked and Fuqua does what he can with interesting direction, but at the end of the day this is purely a performance piece for its star and in the question of “does Gyllenhaal nail it?” he can only be found guilty.

The Guilty stars Jake Gyllenhaal, Ethan Hawke, Riley Keough, Peter Sarsgaard, Christina Vidal, Adrian Martinez, Eli Goree & Paul Dano – Streaming on Netflix now.

7/10

On paper the cast of Antonio Campos’ new film The Devil All the Time is a slam dunk. A who’s who of up and coming talent and recently established superstars alike featuring Spider-Man himself Tom Holland in the lead, surrounded by Robert Pattinson, Jason Clarke, Sebastian Stan, Riley Keough, Haley Bennett, Eliza Scanlen and Bill Skarsgard. The ridiculousness of the cast is understandable when you realise it’s a Netflix production, who can’t resist splashing their cash around these days, yet it can’t be understated when the performances within are as good as they are here. Performances alone don’t make a film work however, and The Devil All the Time is a prime example of how elements of a novel don’t necessarily translate to the movies, undermining the excellent work of the cast by attempting to cram too much into an already complex film and relying on narration instead of its actors to tell the story.

Let’s start with the main character here, who oddly enough is never actually on screen: the narrator and author of the original book Donald Ray Pollock. It is barely an exaggeration to say that his voice is heard on-screen more than any of the actors, with his husky Southern drawl explaining just about every plot development in the film. Granted this is a fairly complex film with an ensemble of characters and various interweaving storylines, but if your story doesn’t work without the need to explain each and every scene, then maybe you should take another look at the screenplay. Explaining someone’s emotions right before the moment of death is never going to be as engaging as simply watching the actor express those emotions through their movements and facial expression and the narration puts the audience on the outside, never allowing for any interpretation of a scene because everything is unpacked and told directly to you. It’s a strange device that seems to show Pollock’s overprotectiveness over his work and distrust in the actors, made even more annoying by the fact that majority of the things he is describing are being portrayed excellently by the A-list cast.

Performance wise this is a masterclass in dramatic character acting, with every actor fully committing to their character and the embodiment of some sort of evil. The Devil All the Time is a story about truly horrific people. This is not an easy watch in any sense of the word but it is a fascinating one that digs into the depths of human depravity and the manipulation of others through social constructs like gender roles and religion. While it won’t be for everyone, those that stick it out will be rewarded with a rich exploration of the violence of the human condition. Tom Holland leads the ensemble as Arvin, the son of tormented and fervently religious World War II veteran Willard (Bill Skarsgard), whose traumatic upbringing has left him a hardened, good intentioned man with an unwanted penchant for violence. Arvin’s desire to protect those around him, particularly adopted sister Lenora (Eliza Scanlen), inadvertently puts him on a collision course with a host of despicable people including depraved pastor Preston Teagardin (Robert Pattinson), husband and wife serial killers Carl (Jason Clarke) and Sandy (Riley Keough) and Sandy’s corrupt lawman brother Deputy Lee Bodecker (Sebastian Stan).

Everyone in this West Virginian backwoods town is damaged and has been broken in some way by the world around them, giving Arvin’s character an almost anti-hero quality; he is not above these people but simply desires to leave this place and ensure those he loves are looked after. The violence is simply a bi-product of his desire to do good and Holland does an amazing job of portraying this internal struggle in Arvin. It may seem almost impossible to separate the young actor from his role as Spider-Man but Holland manages to shift your perspective, with his Southern drawl and calm and measured demeanour. It is a risky move on Holland’s part but one that definitely pays off and shows his outstanding range as one of Britain’s brightest young talents.

That inherent goodness cannot be applied to the other members of the cast however, with Robert Pattinson almost stealing the entire film as the mesmerising Pastor who has hoodwinked the town into worshipping him as their connection to God, all the while lying to them and wreaking havoc on young girls around town. He is a character you absolutely loathe and it is a testament to Pattinson’s performance that he draws this kind of emotional response from the audience. His monologue about people’s “delusions” leading them to sin is truly spellbinding and will have you glued to the screen as you realise how well this man can twist the townspeople into accepting his word as the truth.

As is the case with any film of this nature with multiple storylines, there are those that simply aren’t as engaging as the others. The serial killer storyline seems to plod along as a sidepiece with no real relevance, apart from an early interaction with a key player, ultimately falling flat and failing to carry as much impact as it should. By far the least interesting however, is that of Deputy Bodecker. Sebastian Stan is great in the role, transforming himself into the grimy overweight policeman in debt to the mob and working as an enforcer while he polices, but ultimately his storyline just does not really matter. His place in Arvin’s narrative is never really solidified and ultimately doesn’t carry the weight that the film thinks it does, leading to something of an anticlimactic finale that doesn’t quite reach the dramatic highs that have come before.

The Devil All the Time is one of the most bold and risky films that Netflix has put out; a dark and violent exploration of the depravity that the human condition can extend to. While its subject matter certainly won’t appeal to a broad audience and the constant narration can be incredibly annoying, the excellence of the A-list cast’s performances cannot be overstated, with Holland and Pattinson in particular delivering awards worthy turns. This isn’t a casual watch by any means but if you find yourself in the mood for a good drama and something that will make you think then give The Devil All the Time a chance. I haven’t stopped thinking about it for almost a month and the more I do the more I am convinced that this is one of the best films of 2020.

The Devil All the Time stars Tom Holland, Robert Pattinson, Sebastian Stan, Riley Keough, Jason Clarke, Eliza Scanlen, Haley Bennett, Mia Wasikowska, Harry Melling, Donald Ray Pollock and Bill Skarsgard – Streaming on Netflix now.