Rating: R
Runtime: 1 hour, 52 minutes
Director: Ty Roberts
Quick Impressions:
My husband and I arranged to meet friends of ours at the theater last night to see the movie To Dust at 7:20. But it wasn’t actually showing.
“Sometimes the app is not up to date,” the ticket seller told me with a smile and a shrug.
That threw us into a bit of a panic because we had already seen everything else playing at that theater except The Iron Orchard at 7:00. It was an easy choice, easier since there was absolutely no time to think it over before the movie started. Still I felt rushed and maybe not mentally prepared for the switch.
I mean, To Dust is (supposedly) a quirky dark comedy about a Hasidic cantor who struggles to process the untimely death of his beloved wife by enlisting the help of community college biology professor Matthew Broderick to explore the physical reality of her decomposition process.
Meanwhile The Iron Orchard is a Texas made, Texas filmed, Texas set historical epic/melodrama about a man gaining and losing a fortune in oil beginning in the 1930s. It’s based on a 1966 novel which is apparently a cult classic in some circles and often lovingly referred to as the wildcatter’s bible.
Just before the previews started, we were met with another surprise twist. The lead actor in the film, Lane Garrison (and his adorable baby) appeared in person along with a producer to thank us for coming and to inform us that after the film, they would be back for an audience Q&A along with the film’s director, Ty Roberts.
Suddenly our baffling inconvenience became an exciting event.
(And my viewing experience became extra stressful as for one hour and fifty-two minutes, I racked my brains trying to come up with a good question to ask during the Q&A. I’m so bad at thinking up questions. This was the bane of my life back in grad school. I promise, I listen attentively to people’s presentations, but for some reason, my questions always make me sound like Ralph Wiggum. I just need an exceptionally long time to process. Two weeks after the fact, I could ask a brilliant question.
“Watch,” I told my husband, “I’ll spend the entire movie thinking up a question, and then somebody else will ask it right before I get the chance.”)
As I watched the film, I was never quite sure how much I liked it. I thought it was engaging but uneven. I had a number of criticisms of the movie, though I absolutely loved its use of music.
“They must have had a pretty small budget,” I thought.
Then at the beginning of the Q&A afterwards, they revealed that they had basically no budget, no one made any money, and the entire film took twenty-four days to shoot.
“Give these people an Oscar!” I wanted to shout. (They really should have led with that information. Well, maybe not. The surprise at the end did genuinely blow me away.)
The story is so epic. It’s like a mashup of The Wolf of Wall Street, There Will Be Blood, Giant, and some Douglas Sirk melodrama. It takes place over the course of about fifteen years. We follow the protagonist from rags to riches to self-destructive spiral to nightmare to home again. Flashbacks extend the span of the story. It’s a tale as big as Texas (shot on location in various parts of Texas) that takes us from the Permian Basin way out West to the glitzy wealth of Fort Worth.
I could not believe that the film was shot in 24 days. It’s so sweeping and atmospheric. Plus, they actually assemble and work on so many rigs. It would take me 24 days just to build a Lego version of one. They also managed to acquire so many period cars, and the make up is good enough to convince us that the protagonist actually is aging and thickening.
All told, The Iron Orchard makes a powerful argument for giving director Ty Roberts more time and actual money. He told us the story of how he asked the son of the author (also present) if he could option the book for $1. The man agreed and asked if he could also make the movie for $1. He definitely delivered. With a budget of $100 million, Roberts could make the movie of the century.
The Good:
My favorite thing about The Iron Orchard was its use of music. Not only did I love Duncan Thum’s score, but I appreciated the way the soundtrack facilitated the transition from scene to scene, place to place, time to time. The music was like a character itself. In fact, if you watch The Iron Orchard paying attention only to its score and its soundtrack, it’s indistinguishable from that $100 million dollar movie I imagined. The music is exceptionally strong.
The cinematography is good, too. I also appreciated learning in the Q&A that the original cinematographer had to bow out just before filming. They scrambled to find a replacement and were overjoyed when French cinematographer Mathieu Plainfossé enthusiastically agreed to take on the project because he was so excited about shooting in Texas.
At times I thought the camera’s fascination with all of the equipment was a bit over the top, but then again, the most enthusiastic audience for this movie is Texas oil men (and also apparently Europeans longing for the mystery of the Lone Star State).
I must admit, as a Texan who loves movies, it was refreshing to see the actual landscape of Texas captured on film. (Think of all those classic Westerns in which the part of Texas is played by its stunt double Arizona, and those not from the area are none the wiser.)
I wasn’t a huge fan of the washed out look of the scenes (to show that we are in the past). I thought that the technique looked inexpensive. (For all I know, it could have been the most expensive thing in the movie, but I don’t see other mainstream movies that look quite that particular shade.) I also thought the movie looked like it was on a tight budget when I noticed that we see so many amazing classic cars–but almost always one at a time. To me, that was a huge tell that there was a small budget, which is not really a point against the film.
The performances are pretty good, though I felt a bit like I was watching a high school play. I don’t mean that the actors were amateurish. (I must tell you, I’ve seen some pretty impressive high school plays. I don’t consider likening a film to one an insult.) I mean that, as in high school plays, some of the performers were conspicuously stronger than others. They didn’t seem like an especially uniform group in terms of seasoning, talent, and screen presence.
Strangely, I thought the “colorful” character actors were one of the best aspects of the film. The more scene-chewing and stereo-typically Texan their characters were, the more entertaining they were to watch. Early on, surprise encounters with characters like this were by far the best part of the movie. Later I learned that two of the best were played by Rooster McConaughey (Matthew’s older brother) and Gil Prather who have worked together on a couple of TV shows. (It’s quite funny that Rooster turned out to be Matthew McConaughey’s older brother because as I watched him in the movie, I actually thought that a heavily costumed Matthew McConaughey would have enjoyed playing such a hammy character. I never dreamed the actor actually was a member of the McConaughey family.)
Lead actor Lane Garrison gives a good performance as out-of-control oil man Jim McNeely. I felt like his performance was a bit rough (kind of bland) in some of the early scenes, but as the character grew more weathered, more rough, and more drunk, Garrison’s work got better and better. By the end, he was fantastic. (The awkwardness of his earliest scenes could have to do with the rapid shoot. As usual, they filmed the scenes all out of order, and he may not have had time to figure out who McNeely was as a young man before he turned into a weathered, alcohol-soaked Texas wildcatter.)
Perhaps the most fully realized character in the film was McNeely’s first wife Lee, exceptionally well played by Ali Cobrin. She was a standout in the film (and also had a part very accommodatingly written since she had sufficient material to show a complete character whose decisions made sense).
I was also especially impressed by Austin Nichols as Dent Paxton. He and Cobrin were conspicuously good and convincing in their roles.
Lew Temple is fantastic, too. (I just read that an interview with him and learned that he wanted to play the part of Ort Cooley for years and was attached to an earlier attempt to make the novel into a film which proved fruitless.)
Hassie Harrison distracted me by reminding me of a mashup of Jennifer Lawrence and my second cousin, but she also had great screen presence and was excellent in her role. I could never decide if I liked Temple Baker’s performance as Pluto, but I was always excited to see him again so I could mull it over so more.
Best Scene:
With his tobacco-stained facial hair, prospectory good looks, and big, incredulous eyes, Gil Prather practically steals the movie as Old Man Coker. His scene with Lane Garrison is by far the funniest and most outrageous in the film. It’s so funny and kooky that tonally, it doesn’t even quite fit. Honestly, I think the film needed a few more moments like this. It’s also an excellent moment for Garrison. He seems to have a natural flare for awkward, unintentional (by the character) comedy. Too bad there aren’t more moments like that for him in this movie. (My husband and I also thought, Gosh, if the director looked back and wanted reshoots of anything, too bad!)
Two other moments stand out to me, too. I love the bit when Lew Temple’s Ort Cooley leaves the party, and I like the way Dent Paxton (Austin Nichols) plays the “shoot an elephant” scene.
Best Scene Visually:
We see so much vast West Texas landscape, so many oil rigs, such claustrophobic opulence. I actually am a huge fan of the way the film emphasizes the vastness of the land in the West Texas scenes, and the utter claustrophobia of Fort Worth. Thematically, we see that once McNeely attains massive wealth, his world becomes so much smaller, like a trap. I’m sure this strategy was adopted in part to save money. (The film alludes to excessive wealth but actually shows very little.) But Roberts makes this money-saving strategy work to the benefit of the story. That’s really quite clever. There are several nice shots in the film, many of them aerial, and one through the slats of a fence that I really enjoyed.
My favorite visual, though, is that somewhat jarring scene of Lee putting on lipstick. Like the Old Man Coker scene, this moment makes the audience ask, “Whaaaaat?” It’s extremely intriguing. Cobrin plays it beautifully, and I think the film would benefit from more moments like this.
Best Action Sequence:
My husband pointed out a compelling instance of foreshadowing in the film. We get an early scene of McNeely being forced to clean out a horror silo. (It’s full of some kind of disgusting sludge residue that emits toxic gas.) This scene’s echo later in the film is quite a powerful moment.
The Negatives:
I found the first thirty minutes of the movie far less engaging than I would have desired. Perhaps, though, I was still a bit resentful that I’d been forced to watch the film. (My friend and I still suspect that the theater cancelled the showing of To Dust at the last minute in attempt to funnel more people into the special screening of The Iron Orchard.)
Several older men who had worked in the oil industry were present, and during the Q&A session, they volunteered how much the authenticity of the story had moved them. I feel like The Iron Orchard exists for them, so I suppose it makes sense to show in painstaking detail all those long, slow scenes of McNeely working in the West Texas heat, digging ditches, getting knocked in the dust, laying pipe, taking a rebellious water break…
I know one thing for sure, I thought as I watched. I never want to work in the oil field.
I mean, I know it’s character building, but so is the Girl Scouts. That seems more my speed (although I was once in the Girl Scouts, and I have to admit selling the cookies really stressed me out, too).
Although I always enjoy being reminded of my limitations, I was not that taken with the early scenes. Later on, the film keeps jumping forward in time (because it’s a long novel, and they’re running out of time). In these time jumps, some material is clearly left off screen, and I would have preferred to see more of that and less sweaty pipe laying (which is not as exciting as you might expect). I do think the film might benefit from better editing, but I also think that these early scenes could have been presented in the same painstaking slowness (still allowing the camera to fetishize the Western landscape and oil industry machinery) with some more inventive dialogue or perhaps just more gripping performances.
Lane Garrison is obviously a good actor, and he settles into the challenging role of Jim McNeely very well and eventually gives a great performance. But his work in these early scenes is a bit shaky. I get the sense he doesn’t know who McNeely is until he becomes more successful, weathered, stressed, and connected to other characters. In the beginning, the guy just seems like he’s nobody, and yet we’re watching his adventures doing manual labor for like forty-five minutes. Garrison’s performance improves exponentially once he begins to interact with Ali Cobrin (Lee). We get some flashes of his personality. Plus, he begins to act like a man who is interacting with a woman he finds attractive rather than a man who is just wandering around aimlessly. (The flashbacks of his old girlfriend are meant to show us his motivation, but they don’t really work.) (Actually none of the flashbacks in this film entirely worked for me.) I do think that the breathless shooting schedule probably created some of these problems with the performance, though.
And not all of the supporting actors in these early scenes are very good. (But maybe they knew how to build the rigs, I keep thinking. I mean somebody must have known how to build those rigs! Only twenty-four days to shoot and there’s so much complicated (and heavy) machinery to be assembled!)
I do think that the film should have emphasized the importance of McNeely’s mistake in not buying a piece of land more than it does and without later telling us of its significance. Honestly, I think the story needs more time in the second half and a more invigorating way of moving through the early scenes.
You can’t really blame a film for being made on a shoestring budget. (I was amazed that the proprietor of the Hotel Settles allowed the cast and crew to stay for free for two months. It wouldn’t have happened at the Hilton on my dad’s watch.) Some of the issues I had while watching directly related to the fact that the film was made for little money. It looked suspicious. I see a lot of films, and the trailer for this one screamed, “This isn’t a real movie.”
A real movie? I have to ask myself why I have such a suspicion of independent passion projects made on a small budget. I’m an author, and I know firsthand how difficult it is to get people with money and industry connections to take a risk on anything.
Indies with small budgets are made all the time. But The Iron Orchard is trying to be a sweeping epic about striking it rich in the oil industry over the course of decades. Making a project with those themes and that scope on a budget more suited to the value menu at a fast food place is quite a challenge.
Honestly I admire everyone involved for taking the risk and putting in the work. This movie doesn’t look like a big Hollywood release. But it also doesn’t look like a movie shot in twenty-four days on a non-existent budget. When you realize the filming constraints, The Iron Orchard looks mind-blowingly fantastic.
I must say, too, the story has stuck with me. Though parts of the film felt a bit slow and awkward, looking back over The Iron Orchard, I’m moved by many aspects of the story. I might read the novel.
Overall:
I still want to see To Dust, but even going into the movie feeling resentful and disinterested, I did like The Iron Orchard. I wish the movie all the success in the world, and I sincerely hope this achievement opens the door for director Ty Roberts to make future films with bigger budgets and more resources available to him.