Leonard Maltin's 151 Best Movies You've Never Seen - Maltin, Leonard [3]
Actors:
WILLEM DAFOE
EDWARD FURLONG
MICKEY ROURKE
TOM ARNOLD
STEVE BUSCEMI
JOHN HEARD
DANNY TREJO
SEYMOUR CASSEL
We’ve all seen plenty of prison dramas, from such emblematic Hollywood yarns as The Big House (1930) to starker, modern-day variations like In the Name of the Father (1993). Camp followers are fond of the women-in-prison subgenre that was launched, unintentionally, with Caged (1950) and became exploitation fodder in the decades to follow.
With all of these movies in our collective consciousness, a prison picture has to offer something fresh or it’s headed toward cliché city. The Animal Factory avoids the obvious at every turn.
Unlike other stories set behind bars, its strength comes not from melodrama but matter-of-factness. The setting is a state institution where the formidable Willem Dafoe—looking particularly menacing with his head shaved—plays a quiet, cunning prison veteran who believes, not without justification, that he runs the joint. He even has a wicked sense of humor. Edward Furlong is an unworldly twenty-one-year-old newcomer, locked up for marijuana dealing, who becomes Dafoe’s latest protégé. At first he’s reluctant to form any alliances, wanting to fight his own fights, but he gradually comes to understand that he needs a mentor. The film contends that it’s impossible to avoid playing “the game” in order to survive.
Yet Dafoe isn’t a traditional heavy, and his feelings toward Furlong aren’t blatantly sexual; in fact, he feels almost fatherly toward the young man. The nuances of their relationship help make the film as compelling as it is.
Every member of the ensemble is well cast, from Seymour Cassel as an old-time prison guard to Mickey Rourke as a transvestite who’s overjoyed to have a young stud like Furlong as his new cell mate. Tom Arnold is also quite good as a prisoner who’s on the prowl for the new kid and makes no bones about it.
Actor Steve Buscemi’s debut film behind the camera, Trees Lounge, showed talent and style; his sophomore project reveals maturity. (Since that time he’s piloted episodes of The Sopranos and Nurse Jackie and two excellent indie features, Lonesome Jim and Interview.) And if the setting and the performances owe a debt to him, the film owes its credibility to screenwriter Edward Bunker, who served time in San Quentin and adapted this script from his same-named novel. (An earlier book of his became the Dustin Hoffman vehicle Straight Time.) Bunker also appears briefly onscreen as a character named Buzzard.
3. AURORA BOREALIS
(2006)
Directed by James Burke
Screenplay by Brent Boyd
Actors:
JOSHUA JACKSON
DONALD SUTHERLAND
JULIETTE LEWIS
LOUISE FLETCHER
ZACK WARD
JOHN KAPELOS
STEVEN PASQUALE
TYLER LABINE
It must be frustrating for actors to do outstanding work in a film hardly anyone sees. I’m sure they take satisfaction in a job well done, but we all need approbation. The performances in a little movie called Aurora Borealis are deeply felt, and it shows. When I screened this film for my class, most of my students still thought of Joshua Jackson as the guy they’d grown up watching on the popular TV series Dawson’s Creek. They were (pleasantly) surprised to see him inhabit an entirely different character, and enjoyed watching him relate so convincingly to his costars.
Duncan (Jackson) is twenty-five years old and his life in Minneapolis is going nowhere. He’s living out an extended adolescence, hanging out with the same friends he’s had for years. He can’t hold down a job, and has no sense of direction or self-worth. (He even allows his hardworking brother, played by Steven Pasquale, to use his apartment to cheat on his wife.) We learn that Duncan’s promising hockey career came to an end with the death of his father ten years ago, apparently from a cocaine overdose. He’s never gotten over—or past—this life-changing experience.
His brother nags him about visiting their grandparents (Donald Sutherland and Louise Fletcher), and when he finally does, Duncan establishes a bond with the old man, who’s suffering