Film Review--Revolver

Revolver
written and directed by Guy Ritchie
adapted by Luc Besson
starring Jason Statham, Ray Liotta, Vincent Pastore, Andre Benjamin, Mark Strong, Francesca Annis, Terence Maynard

If any film has ever demanded multiple viewings just to get through the tangled ruckus that it presents in ever cranny, this one certainly fits the bill. It’s loose, contrived, arrogant and thoroughly despondent of anything remotely cohesive. Yet it strives for something esoteric that stuns the mind into a strange place where worlds inevitably collapse upon themselves and nothing is ceremoniously sorted. It’s an agony that traps the unwitting into the terrible excesses of their own ego and rewards the effort to break clean free and start again with a new and more intoxicating set of rules.

In this torture chamber Jake Green is a man who must feel cheated out of the seven years he has just given of himself in some dank, unforgiving cell. Inside he is flanked on each side by a chess master and a con. They have developed a system for cheating any game and pass their intel back and forth using Jake as some sort of elevated middleman. Through all this Jake learns the system and is wounded when their promises to take him along fall through. He is finally released two years later seeking revenge on overtanned Macha, the man he holds responsible for his incarceration. He also realizes he’s been cleaned out of his riches. No problem, he uses the system to acquire a massive torrent of wealth through various gambling efforts at a number of casinos. The owners of these establishments fear him because it just doesn’t seem possible that one man can be so damn good.

So, it comes on like a traditional narrative where one man seeks to right the wrongs that have so afflicted him for such a considerable length of time. Time he will never get back although one is left to wonder just exactly what time means in this film. It’s never clear just who Jake is or trying to be and a perpetual stream of torments in the guise of inner dialog do not seem to clear up the picture with any alacrity. What we have is a conflict of the ego–enslavement to its clutching demonism–that haunts the film at every turn. It’s a sadistic game reminiscent of Philip Ridley’s The Reflecting Skin where mad secrets are buried in tune to the awakening that never quite resolves the myriad issues at play.

So, the necessary action filters through and bodies fall in step with the rhythm of confusion and regret. Macha puts a hit on Jake and he is rescued by two occult figures named Zach (Pastore) and Avi (Benjamin) who all but force him to turn over his cash so they can siphon money from the careless and unwitting. Jake is taken along to terribly sad sights where desperate men sabotage their futures to make payments that only prove to dig them further in the pit. Jake also learns that he has three days to live due to a rare blood ailment and has been instructed by his new friends that he will not die if he continues his generous financing of their enterprise.

This film almost defies review after a single casual viewing. It’s simply impossible to fully grasp every con, every angle, and the darkening succulence that is revealed so passingly on the screen. There are intricacies here at play that move beyond the mere experiencing. There is carnality in the shape of the easiest of asides. The film uses quotes that are directly implicated in the plot to further it in a direction that begs for martyrs of a stifling age who know the meaning of cruel measures of neglect and terminal woe. This certainly feels like something new as films of this nature generally stick to the plan and do not attempt to fog the viewer with existential crisis and what I am told is references to Kabbala or other variants of Jewish Mysticism. The symbols are present to be sure but perhaps any inference might by the work of over eager conspiracists who are forever cursed to connect the dots. Regardless, this is a spiritually-themed film that deals heavily with issues of self torment, proscribed agonies of the soul, and phases of abject belittlement sourcing from the eye of the ego.

Yes, this is a psychological tumble that exploits that disciplines sacred cows. The ego is the enemy here because it insists on convincing the Self that they are one and the same. So, Jake stumbles about until he finally catches on to this ultimate con. He plays chess with a master because it is the only way to improve his game. Likewise he learns all the nuances of the con to make himself harder and more attuned to the dynamics he must learn to love.

Macha is a truly tormented character choked off from his Self by his own insistence to cling to the Ego’s slick promises that it forever fails to honor. He’s cold and spinning, never sure where the enemy is hiding simply because it is hiding in his head and he is incapable of banishing it altogether. Haunting every being in this film is the unseen specter of a man known as Sam Gold. He allegedly is the one to whom all deals originate and in fact is the ultimate power player. All games are played in accordance to his rules and he determines the structure of every endeavor.

So, the terrors of the mind are brought clean and examined with a scythe that startles the consciousness into a rarified air of comprehension that is denied by the ego’s tyrannical hold on the Self. Jake runs through a cycle of determination that ultimately leads him into a novel space where thoughts are corralled and formulated into their proper place. This is a film about stilling the mind and calming the internal sea that bashes about in a blind fury designed to keep the Self off balance for eternity. It is moving beyond attachment and seeing the void for what it really is.

The performances in this film offer up a range of emotional vitality that comes through in every frame. Jason Statham is as good as he’s ever been in this film as he documents his character’s pressing need for answers in a realm that is not particularly friendly to them. Andre Benjamin presents a fabled aristocratic venom that his character ultimately uses to fuel his fascination with the intricacies that are behind the conquering of any con, any game. Ray Liotta is a thrilling psychopathic messenger who slowly succumbs to the beast knawing away at his fevered brain. Liotta brings a type of blistering agony as his character struggles to right himself in the face of so much delirium that he himself has helped foster.

Overall, this film teases the brain and then bashes it into quiet submission without first bothering to offer any hope of recompense for the abuse. It is mangled and fractured and it feels as if one has experienced a brain peel by the end. It is a magical mystery tour of beauty, corruption and sweet, delicate decay. It proves to be an agile thriller searching for any other vein to inject its pretty poison into and the result is a giddy high that needs to be experienced again and again for the full effects to start kicking. I certainly do not understand it altogether but it kept me entranced long enough to guarantee that I’ll be revisiting its sacred halls soon enough.