Runtime: 1 hour, 57 minutes
Rating: R
Director: Dan Gilroy
Quick Impressions:
Since I’m a writer, getting involved in journalism in high school seemed a natural move. I did print journalism (newspaper) at my first high school, and broadcast journalism at the second and third. For a short while, I seriously considered pursuing journalism as a career. And then I made the mistake of watching the movie Absence of Malice with my mother.
“I can’t be a journalist!” I wailed in terror after the credits rolled. “They destroy lives! What if I destroy someone’s life?”
Of course, now that I’m older and wiser, I know that you can destroy lives in any career (and if you’re just reckless enough, even when you’re unemployed)!
But still, my Absence of Malice panic attack served a useful purpose by opening my eyes to the fact that I just don’t have the right personality to be a successful reporter. Asking people prying questions when they are suffering goes against my natural inclinations. I’m more likely to take them out for ice cream or (most likely of all) to leave them alone entirely. (I currently have the perfect job for my skill set. Stay-at-home mom! I take my own kid out for ice cream and avoid other people entirely. It’s like the opposite of a reporter. I go out of my way to avoid finding out what’s going on with other people.)
Anyway, Nightcrawler is one of those reassuring movies that comforts those of us who worry we haven’t achieved enough professionally. As the movie began, I found myself drifting off onto self-reproaching tangents thinking, I probably should have done more by now. Then by the time the film was over, I sighed in relief and reflected, At least I didn’t do that!
To be honest, I only saw Nightcrawler this week because the showtimes of Whiplash made it impossible to pick up my daughter from school, and my husband plans to see Interstellar with me but can’t go until next week. Plus Nightcrawler’s previews got my attention. Jake Gyllenhaal was pretty compelling last year as Detective Loki in Prisoners, and based on the previews, I expected Nightcrawler to have a similar gloomy, suspenseful vibe, so I went.
The Good:
Nightcrawler is definitely a film I like more the longer I’m away from it.
As I watched the early scenes, I kept thinking to myself, The character Gyllenhaal is creating is compelling enough. His performance is holding my interest, but the movie itself doesn’t seem all that suspenseful so far. It’s not really scary, either. It’s not even all that creepy yet.
Early on, the big question you’re asking yourself is, “Will Louis Bloom turn out to be the villain or the victim here? Is this guy going to harm or be harmed?”
To the movie’s credit, the answer to this riddle is not clear for a very long time. I mean, yes, we learn from his first scene that Louis Bloom is capable of doing bad things. So it’s easy to predict that he will end up doing something very, very bad. But even as you’re thinking that, you’re also sure, Something bad is going to happen to him. I can feel it.
Nightcrawler does a good job of keeping the viewer a little off balance. We’re never completely sure if the terrible thing that we can sense coming will happen to Louis or because of him.
News reporting is always kind of a moral gray area. (At least, I think so.) Freedom of the press is important, obviously, and I suppose there’s value in the old chestnut that the people have a right to know the truth. But in this jaded age of ours, all adults should know that some news (TV news especially) isn’t really about information or freedom. It’s about ratings. Reporters are supposed to break stories that will get people’s attention and hold their interest. Even leaving the sleazier stuff aside, if you’re in the business of journalism, and you’re not exploiting other people’s tragedies and dark secrets for your own career gain, then I really doubt you’re doing your job right, and you’ll probably get fired soon.
I’m not trying to insult journalists. The work they do is valuable (and I know some journalists with tremendous integrity). Obviously none of us wants our secrets told, but sometimes those secrets need to be exposed for the common good.
Even the lurid world of TV shock journalism Louis Bloom enters has its value. After all, Bloom’s graphic, morbid, exploitative images caught on film make money for him only because people want to see that kind of stuff. There’s demand.
Nightcrawler does a few things very well, and one of them is critiquing how ratings-driven TV news outlets operate by showing us the types of people who could manage to thrive in such an industry.
Another marked strength of the movie is the way it makes us stop and think about what we see and what we don’t. Bloom is a scavenger with a camera. He makes a living by capturing disturbing images from violent crimes or accidents on video, and as his career progresses, he becomes increasingly focused on framing, editing, and presentation. He realizes that what he chooses to show and how he chooses to show it work powerfully to create a visual narrative. Done right, taking footage for the news is not a passive process. As time goes on, Bloom realizes that his work helps to create the story.
The movie takes this idea and does a lot with it. More than halfway through, something happens to make us as viewers realize that we have not been seeing everything. Of course we know that any film is a deliberate construction, something carefully put together for our enjoyment, but we don’t always consciously think about that while watching a movie. In this case, though, we can’t help but think about. We aren’t seeing the whole story. The camera is only on some events, some of the time. Scenes are happening off screen that we aren’t being shown. And as we realize this, we have to ask ourselves, how well do we really know these people? How sure are we of what we do about them?
Once we realize that Louis and Nina have significant scenes together we do not see, for example, we have to start to wonder what Louis is up to in all the other scenes missing from our sampling of his day. As the movie goes on, we start to question what we see and wonder what Louis has been doing during all those off-camera moments when we haven’t been watching his actions.
Surely what’s going to be most memorable about Nightcrawler, though, (the film’s legacy) is Jake Gyllenhaal’s fascinating interpretation of central character Louis Bloom. Gyllenhaal has such a pretty face, but he’s clearly found a way to work around that. (My mom’s reaction to the TV previews was the best part of the movie. Recoiling in horror, she cringed, “Oh my God! What’s happened to Jake Gyllenhaal? Does he have a drug problem? Look at him! He looks so creepy!” I laughed when I reassured her, “He’s supposed to look like that for the role. He doesn’t look like that all the time.”)
Here Gyllenhaal creates someone physically unsettling and increasingly repulsive morally. (In the end, Nightcrawler has some thematic elements in common with Gone Girl, but I think Nightcrawler explores these elements in a much more realistic way. Louis Bloom is an odd guy, but he’s definitely someone who probably exists right now in the real world. He finds a career that fits his strengths, nothing too fantastical.)
The supporting cast here is great, too. I loved Renee Russo as Nina, the veteran news producer who first sees promise in Louis (the promise of good ratings for her broadcast). It’s weird. I’ve never liked Renee Russo. When I was a kid, she always seemed dull to me, just not very exciting, and in her interviews, vaguely dumb. But I liked her a lot in the second Thor movie, and I think she’s pretty phenomenal here. She’s by far my favorite part of the film, so clearly I’m going to have to revise my opinion of her abilities as an actress. Maybe I’m just not a huge fan of the Lethal Weapon movies. Maybe she just wasn’t getting the right kind of parts to showcase her abilities when she was younger. Writer/Director Dan Gilroy is her husband of over twenty years, so maybe he has a better idea than some directors of what sort of part Russo needs. Or maybe like Louis Bloom, I like older women. The point is, Russo’s fantastic in Nightcrawler, and I’m seriously hoping she’ll pull off an Oscar nomination somehow.
I also enjoyed Bill Paxton’s performance as Joe Loder. Of course, I like Bill Paxton in everything. (I even like him when he’s just being Bill Paxton. I loved him in James Cameron’s Titanic documentary Ghosts of the Abyss, haunting at some moments, hilarious at others).
And as Rick, Riz Ahmed kept growing on me, more and more. By the end of the movie, he’s giving a terrifically compelling performance.
Best Scene:
My favorite part in the movie comes in the final negotiation scene between Louis and Nina. Their earlier encounter in a restaurant definitely left us with the impression that something was going to happen, but then we never saw it happen, so how could we be completely sure? Here we get confirmation at an unexpected moment, and the way it plays out is highly effective.
In retrospect, I’m also a pretty big fan of the moment when Gyllenhaal gets turned down for a job early on. The reason the boss gives for not employing him seems deeply significant (and like a really, really good call on that guy’s part) by the end of the film.
Best Action Sequence:
Rick’s reactions as his last big filming assignment unfolds and he’s forced to adjust his expectations are priceless. For someone often left cold by action, I like car chases a lot, and what happens at the end of this one is really something.
Best Scene Visually:
Of course, the stuff in the “horror house” is fantastic, but I think a slightly more significant moment comes a bit earlier when Louis hurries to the scene of a car accident and takes great care to get the best shot he possibly can. This is definitely a turning point in his career.
Most Oscar Worthy Moment, Renee Russo:
I love Renee Russo in this movie. I love her character. Of course, by the end of the film, we definitely get the point about what’s going on with Louis, but what exactly is going on with Nina? She’s refreshingly committed to her passions for a female character in a movie. (She cares less about right/wrong, fair/unfair than about what she needs to do to get what she wants. I’m not saying this way of thinking makes her particularly moral, but it certainly keeps her interesting.) Like Louis, she places a high value on career goals and does what it takes to meet them.
What’s great about Nina is that her character is legitimately complex and interesting. It’s nice to see a fascinating part written for an older woman. (Seriously, a young woman could not play this role. It wouldn’t work. The character has to be older, a veteran of the industry, or else the dynamic would be thrown off, and the interaction between the characters would be different.) It’s nice to see good parts for older actresses (who are not Meryl Streep).
Renee Russo is great in the role and deserves at least serious consideration for an Oscar nod.
The scene when Louis first mentions the Italian restaurant to Nina is really well played by both actors, as is the scene in the restaurant. The dinner scene probably showcases Russo’s performance better than any other, but honestly, all her scenes with Gyllenhaal are great. It’s the kind of performance that builds throughout the movie.
Most Oscar Worthy Moment, Jake Gyllenhaal:
I love Louis’s last conversation with Rick. Louis finally confirms something for the audience, and Gyllenhaal seems so in control of the character here that for once we’re able to focus on the story and forget that Gyllenhaal is giving a carefully crafted performance.
The Negatives:
As Louis Bloom, Jake Gyllenhaal gives a carefully crafted performance, but at times, it’s almost too carefully crafted. The problem is, it feels like a carefully crafted performance. You watch and think, Jake Gyllenhaal is going all out to create a fascinating, memorable character.
But should the audience really be thinking things like that? Shouldn’t we be seeing the character (not the clever actor) and losing ourselves in the story?
I think it may be simply a style of acting that doesn’t appeal to me as much as it does to others. I often have the same reaction to Joaquin Phoenix’s performances. (Occasionally, I even feel that way about Daniel Day-Lewis, who is widely acknowledged as the most mind-blowingly awesome actor working today.)
There’s something mechanical about these performances, something technical. The entire time, I was self-consciously aware that I was watching Jake Gyllenhaal give one of the finest performances of his career. That doesn’t take away from the performance, but I think it does detract from the movie a bit.
Is the goal of a film to entertain an audience or to provide a talented actor with a nomination for Best Actor?
The purpose of this entire movie seems to be to showcase Gyllenhaal’s talents. There’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s distracting. I never lost myself in the movie because I was always so painfully aware that I was watching Jake Gyllenhaal give one-hundred percent (altering even his physical appearance and mannerisms) to create a memorable character.
(It took me out of the story a little, too, once he started driving that incredibly conspicuous car. That was one detail that never felt realistic to me. The character was so careful, so meticulous. Surely he would have seen the disadvantage of driving such a flashy, easily seen and quickly identifiable vehicle. Of course, I realize that this reveals something about his character, and I’ll allow that perhaps that’s the point, but still.)
Also (I may be in the minority here, I don’t know, but) I think the film could go farther. I think I would have preferred a film that lingered less over the start of Louis’s career and pushed further into territory he began to forage once he became successful. As it is, the film’s ending seems to be only the very start of a long, lurid career. We’ve seen what Louis is capable of, but I think he’s capable of more. Why start so tame and take so long to show us the stuff that makes our skin crawl? Our skin could be crawling sooner. We all know from our first exposure to Bloom in the film’s preview that something is not right about the guy. I wish the story had progressed faster and further. For this type of story, the pacing seems too steady, and even though some events are disturbing, they also seem safe and (to a degree) predictable.
One other minor complaint—I could never decide if I liked the score or not. Sometimes I didn’t even notice the score. Then out of nowhere, we’d get these scenes of intense, pulsing music, sometimes chase scenes, sometimes scenes bordering on montage. In those moments, the score was exhilarating—until it became overpowering. I liked the music that played when something was happening, but during such moments of action, the score was so glaringly, jarringly different from other quieter, scenes that the difference was slightly distracting.
Overall:
Nightcrawler’s Halloween release date makes sense. It’s a creepy movie (mainly because it points out by what creepy, unsettling methods perfectly legitimate industries operate). I’m finding that I like it more with some distance. It doesn’t get “exciting” until the end, but it’s the kind of film that plays around in the back of your brain for a long time after you’ve seen it.
Jake Gyllenhaal gives a captivating, memorable performance and could conceivably get a Best Actor nomination (though I doubt he will). Renee Russo, meanwhile, is sensational in a supporting role, doing some of the most interesting work of her career. I sincerely hope she is nominated for Best Supporting Actress because her character was my favorite thing about the movie (other than my mother’s horrified reaction to Gyllenhaal’s creepy new look, of course).