Revenge takes several forms, except in movies. When someone makes a revenge film, no matter how “realistic,” the protagonist usually knows what’s up. There are steps taken to eliminate the bad guy, usually then followed with exact precision, the hero shooting straight, the villain getting a tidy, inevitable comeuppance, and, in some more contemporary films, a brief, often insincere meditation on the cycle of violence. And for all that fancy buildup, Out of the Furnace is pretty much one of those movies.
What stands out in this moody thriller is the small, believable touches. Much of that comes from Christian Bale who, away from a cape and cowl, has often specialized in more minute character work, where his performances quietly add reality and nuance to their surroundings without standing out. As Russell Baze, he’s all sinewy limbs and hangdog expressions, with a beard that seems carved into a frown even when he smiles. You only need to look at Russell to see that he’s a part of an economically-strapped environment, a product of dashed dreams and heavy expectations. Before Russell even says anything substantial, Bale’s eyes alone convey that this guy does some heavy lifting when he gets off his factory job.
We soon learn he’s putting food on the table for himself and his brother Rodney, played by Casey Affleck with his customary thousand-mile stare. Rodney feels like he’s supposed to be a bit younger than Affleck is playing him, but you accept it because he’s specialized in playing scrappy underdogs his whole career, and physically Casey’s always going to seem less imposing than his Oscar-winning brother. His Rodney is the type who went off to the Middle East and came back disappointed that there was no parade. While post-service employment seems like a reality, it also seems likely that some of those opportunities won’t reach the town of Rust Belt, Pennsylvania, and the ones that do don’t interest Rodney, who sees the factory as one of the last steps towards a dull life.
The film’s initial misstep might be the seemingly arbitrary decision to begin the film with an introduction to the villain, greaseball troublemaker Harlan DeGroat. In the very first scene, DeGroat, essayed by Woody Harrelson, gets into a petty squabble at a drive-in theater with his date, brutalizing her, and then delivering a clumsy beating to a curious Samaritan. The tone is set for unrelenting brutality in those moments, casting a shadow over the humanity Bale and Affleck bring to their roles. The additional touch of the drive-in playing Ryuhei Kitamura’s cheeky Midnight Meat Train also seems fairly tone-deaf, as if the filmmakers sought something appropriately nasty and foreboding would do. Frankly, the rights to Midnight Meat Train are probably cheap, so it makes practical sense, at least.
Harlan’s got his hands in everything crime-related, which makes it karmic that Russell has a brief interaction with him before having a drink, landing Russell in an avoidable drunk driving accident. Five years behind bars places Rodney on notice, and instead of being a mopey hoodrat, he’s become one of the region’s best bare-knuckle boxers. It’s not a surprise to know that these seemingly disorganized brawls are often controlled and gamed by dime-store overlords who frequently pay Rodney extra to take a dive. Rodney bristles at the idea though, as his narrative involves him becoming the hero. The cheers of these frequently hygienically-challenged crowds empowers him when he wins, even as they toss dollars around and yell epithets to each other. The extras are well-cast, and the locations are eerily evocative in creating the underground crime world of Rust Belt. There’s even something queasily disgusting about the smoky, dimly-lit behind-the-bar “office” of Rodney’s good-hearted “agent” John Petty, played by a grody, ponytailed Willem Dafoe. This isn’t where big business is done: This is just crappy office space left behind by someone else.
Unfortunately, Out of the Furnace does seem to follow the same steps we’ve seen before, using station-to-station plotting to show Rodney and Petty falling into debt with the wrong people, leading Harlan to darken their doorstep. The quickest option is to book a fight in lawless Ramapo, New Jersey, a real-life hotbed of Appalachian criminal networks just begging for its own AMC show. Petty initially refuses, but giving into Rodney’s pleas suggests even he’s unaware that this is not a trip one makes casually. Russell doesn’t seem as dim, and when he learns the news he knows exactly what’s going on. An ineffectual chat with the police (personified by Forest Whitaker’s usual combination of tenderness and hostility) forces him to take action, and fortunately, this is Appalachian Country – you don’t put a gun in Batman’s hand and pretend he doesn’t know what he’s doing.
This is the second film from Scott Cooper following the country music drama Crazy Heart, and it seems very much that he’s established himself as a genre filmmaker. His earlier effort very much fit the framework of a musician falling off his horse, and benefitted from a Jeff Bridges performance that turned the film from possible springtime mercy-release into Oscar bait for studio Fox Searchlight. But it certainly wasn’t reinventing the wheel, and neither is Out of the Furnace, instead depicting a grimy world where it seems certain no man will find salvation. Cooper dots the margins of the film with fine actors, including Sam Shepherd as cousin Red and Zoe Saldana as Russell’s schoolteacher lover, but neither have much to do. Which makes sense: Likely they imagined they had signed up for a prestige picture, not another grimy revenge movie with grace notes, but a deadening inevitability. Miserablist but well-acted, Out of the Furnace creates an achingly upsetting world of loss and dead ends, but it’s a familiar, if accurate, formula.
Den of Geek Rating: 3 out of 5 Stars