By: debbie lynn elias
Embracing and celebrating film noir and all the deliciousness of the genre is THE BAG MAN. Inspired by “The Cat”, a work by Jungian scholar Marie-Louse von Franz, THE BAG MAN is set in present day and filled with slick saturated hyper-realistic color and frenetic yet controlled emotion. Directed by Dave Grovic and co-written by Grovic and Paul Conway, THE BAG MAN leaps off the screen with color, texture and mystery, captivating us visually and with the performances of, among others, John Cusack, Robert De Niro, Rebecca Da Costa and Crispin Glover. And let me say up front, Cusack and De Niro dazzle with a tete-a-tete dance of character, feeding off each other with a psychological frenzy that is riveting.
Jack is a mysterious man in black. A man of few words, he likes to get in and get out when hired to do a job. His latest assignment is for Dragna, a legendary international crime boss. Jack is to retrieve a bag, go to a motel and wait to make a hand-off. And for that he will be paid handsomely. Simple enough. But there’s a caveat. Under no circumstances is he to look in the bag. Do not look in the bag. Do not do it. Do not look in the bag.
Following Dragna’s instructions to the letter (or at least trying to), Jack heads out into the middle of nowhere on a dark rainy night. But things are unsettling, unseemingly, as if something is lurking around the corner. Almost with a sixth sense, Jack knows something isn’t right. And as he quickly learns, something isn’t.
Sequestering himself, per Dragna’s instructions, in a rundown motel run by a weird little man in a wheelchair, Jack soon finds the place busier than Grand Central Station. Shady characters start popping up everywhere – Russians, little people, thugs and one strikingly beautiful prostitute named Rivka. And dare I mention some corrupt local cops who can’t seem to figure out what side of the law they should be on?
As night drags on, Jack, being a gentleman, finds himself embroiled with Rivka trying to “save” her from various and sundry individuals, all of whom we slowly discover are intricately involved with Dragna and all of whom seem to be looking for the bag. There are games afoot and Jack hasn’t been told all of the rules or the players. But everything explodes and truths start to surface when Dragna himself arrives on scene. And while Jack hasn’t looked in the bag, it turns out that Rivka did.
John Cusack knocks it out of the park. As Jack, the hitman with a heart of gold, Cusack dives head first into the character, immersing himself in the world of Dragna, delivering passion, confidence, yet Lloyd Dobbler vulnerability and tenderness that makes his patented pointed snarkiness all the more effective. Thanks to Cusack, Jack isn’t just a cookie cutter hitman. He has depth, humanity and a moral compass that struggles to find its way. But then you toss Robert De Niro into the mix and into a scene with Cusack and the film explodes with an unseen energy that is palpable.
On first sight of De Niro as Dragna, one is immediately transported to Wag the Dog and Dustin Hoffman’s character. That is the specific physical look of Dragna yet the dialogue and persona is that of De Niro in the same film. Dragna is a physical and emotional blend of De Niro and Hoffman from that film, from poofy hair down to socks and sandals. It works. It dances. It delights. And when it comes to monologues, De Niro kills it thanks not only to his style and panache as Dragna, but thanks to some pop culture infused dialogue that cuts across the grain adding even more blackness to the inherent comedy and tragedy of this murderous night.
Expounding and compounding the story and its dark heart is Crispin Glover who always adds his own element of the absurd and curious to a character. With shades of a Norman Bates mother attachment, Glover do so again here as the seemingly wheelchair bound motel manager Ned. And again, as Cusack does with De Niro, so it goes with Cusack and Glover. An hysterically gruesome twosome. Some of the blackest comedic moments arise from their scenes. A dead ringer for Elizabeth Berkeley is Rebecca De Costa. Turning tricks and turning heads as Rivka, Da Costa adds yet another layer of intrigue to the story and with her performance, weaves some unspoken texture into a growing relationship between Rivka and Jack.
Dominic Purcell adds some muscle not only to the story but visually with his Larson. Joining in the fracas and frenzy are some spot on noir caricatures by Sticky Fingaz and Martin Klebba as Lizard and Guano, respectively. Unfortunately for Fingaz and Klebba, although entertaining, the silliness of Lizard and Guano detracts from the dramatic tension almost to the point of distraction.
Ambiguity, double edged swords and mind games are just some of the tools in the Grovic-Conway toolbox with each being appropriately and effectively utilized. Action is a plenty and well done. The one downfall, however, is the somewhat neatly wrapped ending (although you will find out what’s in the bag). The grit of life and murder should never end neatly in a film of this noir nature. Cinematographer Steve Mason delivers an Oscar-worthy lensing with many scenes metaphorically embracing the duality of story and character thanks to well posited and framed mirrors. Creating a glossy, polished palette filled with the telling effects of hazy neon and water, Mason celebrates the inky blue black tones and shadows of night, then countering that with a flood of light and color with the appearance of Dragna at the motel.
Icing on the cake is scoring by Tony Morales and Edward Rogers. With elements and tone of an Ennio Morricone “spaghetti western” score, the music mirrors the man of Jack. Wonderful finishing thread to the tapestry.
While you may be told “Do Not Look in the Bag!”, you definitely need to look at THE BAG MAN.
Directed by Dave Grovic
Written by Dave Grovic and Paul Conway
Cast: John Cusack, Robert de Niro, Crispin Glover, Rebecca de Costa, Dominic Purcell
