David Michôd’s debut as megger/scripter is this over-hyped psycho-family crime drama that got kid-glove attention from reviewers & the Sundance crowd (always a bad omen), before modestly sinking. It follows the melancholy path of a 17-year old kid (James Frecheville) after his mom O.D.s and he moves in with a criminal gang of sociopathic Uncles & a Grandmother he hardly knows. Without quite realizing it, he’s soon playing helpmate & go-fer on the family’s scams & vendettas, putting himself and his trusting girlfriend in harm’s way. It’s pretty standard stuff, but Michod can’t make sense out of his tidy set up. What exactly do these career criminals do? He hints at perverse sexual notes: Grams demands big wet kisses from her boys; one Uncle struts around bare-chested. another all but steps into the shower with Frecheville. But it’s all seasoning and no meat. Michod more comfortable with Guy Pearce’s standard sentimental cop who’s trying to ‘flip’ the boy. The last act tries to shake things up with some nasty dramatic reverses to the family (Gram’s tied to major Drug Enforcement players), but Michod can only make these twists work by having smart characters act dumb or by pulling strings in some inexplicable manner. It all starts to feel like a pitch-presentation for HBO or Showtime on a pilot that didn’t get picked up.*
ATTENTION MUST BE PAID: *But I guess it did, with enough of a cult following to earn a streaming reboot about a decade after release. (not seen here)
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