Into the Fire
by
2013’s Blue Ruin was every bit the nasty piece of work that its reputation suggested. The sophomore effort of writer/director Jeremy Saulnier, this picture delivered on the grueling imagery that tends to attract curious minds -- as well as its powerful story about the cyclical nature of violence -- gave said viewers plenty to mull over. All eyes were on Saulnier’s next thriller, Green Room, as its release loomed closer, sparking expectations that were largely satisfied by the way it retooled many of its precursor’s elements to similarly strong effect. Of the pair, this could be considered the more “mainstream,” with its focus having shifted away from ruminating on philosophical topics in favor of crafting a succession of visceral scenarios. But though its themes may not run especially deep, that doesn’t lessen Green Room’s clever, cunning, and crazed impact by any significant degree.
The Ain’t Rights have seen plenty of dives in their time. In the midst of their newest tour, punk rockers Pat (Anton Yelchin), Sam (Alia Shawkat), and their bandmates are recruited to play at such a joint, a skinhead bar in the middle of Oregon’s nowhere. The group just wants to make it through their set without ruffling too many feathers, but a misplaced cell phone is all it takes to lead them to a crime scene and all but seal their fates. The body in the bar’s green room hasn’t had a chance to chill before the owner (Patrick Stewart) gets the entire place under lockdown, rounding up loyal minions and plotting unspeakable acts of retribution to rain down upon the band. Few (if any) of them have a shot at escaping to safety, but unless they want to remain trapped for the rest of their lives, Pat and the other Ain’t Rights must summon all their strength and fight as fiercely as possible.
At first glance, Green Room seems as straightforward as thrillers get, and on that level, it's just fine. Saulnier once again shows his resourcefulness as a storyteller, keeping up tension and mastering visual geography under very tight conditions. He’s a champ at shuttling his characters from turning point to turning point in the plot without leaning too heavily on clichéd contrivances, which leads to a couple moments of quiet subversion on his part. Lesser films would saddle the skinhead antagonists with some misguided grand scheme or tactlessly exploit their inherent awfulness, but Green Room treats their beliefs almost as an afterthought. What’s most terrifying about this bunch isn’t their bigotry; it’s how organized and willing to follow the most terrible orders without blinking they prove to be. Saulnier achieves a sort of admirable cruelty, plunging his heroes into dire situations over and over but still leaving the audience wondering what’s going to happen next.
But while Saulnier is busy exercising refreshing plausibility in creating pickles in which to thrust his players, Green Room’s cast is what solidifies our investment in the movie’s many icky goings-on. In the wake of his unfortunate death at age 27, Yelchin’s turn will attract a great deal of attention, but it’s a stirring performance regardless, demonstrating what a truly versatile talent he was. Pat is required to convey sadness, intensity, and even a touch of goofy in close proximity, but Yelchin makes this round of emotional Twister look completely natural. From Shawkat (“Arrested Development”) to Joe Cole, his fellow actors turn the remaining Ain’t Rights into an appealing lot of misfits, and whether we’re seeing Stewart issuing deadly decrees or those like Saulnier veteran Macon Blair carrying them out, we’re seized in consistent fear by the film’s villains. Green Room is a marriage of taut directing and a game cast that works remarkably for the most part, yet there come a scant few instances when the picture’s overall tone veers a smidge off course. Some of the screenplay’s gallows humor (including a closing line that caps off a running gag) fails to connect, and the film’s habit of awarding quickie subplots to supporting characters that swiftly bite the dust anyway doesn’t have the “anyone can die anytime” effect as Saulnier intended.
Green Room unequivocally falls into the category of pictures that are as hard to watch as they are to look away from. Saulnier expertly paints with strokes of both grit and polish, pushing his viewers to the edge as much as he can without turning them off from wanting more. Ghoulish, grisly, and gripping as they come, Green Room refuses to be shaken off easily.
(Released by A24 and rated "R" for strong brutal graphic violence, gory images, language and some drug content.)