*My capsule review of The Sisters Brothers was originally published on Film Inquiry as part of my final report from Film Fest 919. Click here to read the original post and check out more great reviews from this awesome site!*
To state the blatantly obvious, Jacques Audiard's The Sisters Brothers is not a normal Western. After all, how many entries in the genre spend a significant amount of time discussing the plausibility of a utopian society?
But it's not a Western comedy either. The trailer for the film (which has since struggled immensely at the US box office) sold a charming, fairly lightweight buddy flick in the Old West, with Joaquin Phoenix and John C. Reilly trading one-liners and gunshots in equal measure. That's not exactly the case. In execution, Audiard's film functions mainly as a commentary on the nature of violence and brotherhood in the West itself, comparing visions of societal order and examining the potential of ending the bloodshed that has sustained this lawless realm for so long. Heavier than you were expecting, right?
Reilly and Phoenix lead the show as Eli and Charlie Sisters, respectively, a team of outlaws who have made a name for themselves as ruthless thieves and killers in the 1850s Pacific Northwest. Charlie is the brash, hair-trigger madman of the duo, an alcoholic who is heavily invested in the duo's mythological status. On the other hand, Eli is the more measured of the two, responsible for making sure his younger brother doesn't get into too much trouble.
After a violent opening shootout, the story is set in motion thanks to new orders from the Commodore (the Brothers' main boss). The intrepid, sophisticated John Morris (Jake Gyllenhaal with a wild accent) is currently on the tail of Hermann Kermit Warm (Riz Ahmed, re-teaming with his Nightcrawler co-star), a prospector in possession of a formula for tracking down gold. When they realize Morris has gone rogue with Warm, the Brothers ride off in pursuit, but this job is destined to get a lot more complicated from here.
Truth be told, it's hard to whittle down exactly what Audiard is doing here into a short review, especially when you're only going from one viewing. Like many other films at the festival, The Sisters Brothers is a snapshot of a transitional phase in history, one that sees Charlie's dream of the Old West replaced with Morris and Warm's new social vision. It's about a clash between myth and reality, between the desire to romanticize a world of lawless freedom and the assessment of that freedom's violent damage.
This is a challenging take on the Western, yet the film's truth lies in its core performances, specifically from Reilly and Phoenix. Yes, Gyllenhaal and Ahmed are marvelous as a pair of would-be idealists caught in a precarious situation, but this film belongs to those dastardly brothers. The two actors are working in such different keys, which makes it all the more impressive to see how the characters intersect and clash. For Reilly's Eli, the script (written by Audiard and Thomas Bidegain) seeks to discover how his nearly parental relationship with Charlie came to pass, revealing information at a measured, intelligent rate. There's a deep sadness within The Sisters Brothers, and Reilly seems to hold much of it.
Phoenix, probably one of the finest actors working today, gets the chance to play around with a showy, internally tortured character, the kind of man who could explode at any minute. If Reilly's Eli holds the key to the film's melancholy spirit, Phoenix's Charlie possesses much of its thematic pathos. The younger, more unpredictable of the pair demonstrates a greater capacity for violence and egotistical inflation; he wants his own legend to be intimidated and feared. Audiard and Phoenix patiently chip away at Charlie's own machismo, culminating in a conclusion that's both harrowing and heartfelt.
Violence is an infrequent occurrence in The Sisters Brothers, but it always feels viscerally real. Audiard seeks to investigate and de-construct the mythos of the gun-slinging outlaws, finding the deeply held emotional rationale for these shootouts and skirmishes in a brotherhood based on conflict. And at that level, the film proposes a different path to riches and peace, one that may be just out of Eli and Charlie's reach. Yes, The Sisters Brothers is a strange and unusual Western, even a bit too sluggish at times. But I can guarantee one thing - every viewer will walk out of the theater with something to think about.
THE FINAL GRADE: B+ (7.8/10)
Images courtesy of Film Fest 919/Annapurna
To state the blatantly obvious, Jacques Audiard's The Sisters Brothers is not a normal Western. After all, how many entries in the genre spend a significant amount of time discussing the plausibility of a utopian society?
But it's not a Western comedy either. The trailer for the film (which has since struggled immensely at the US box office) sold a charming, fairly lightweight buddy flick in the Old West, with Joaquin Phoenix and John C. Reilly trading one-liners and gunshots in equal measure. That's not exactly the case. In execution, Audiard's film functions mainly as a commentary on the nature of violence and brotherhood in the West itself, comparing visions of societal order and examining the potential of ending the bloodshed that has sustained this lawless realm for so long. Heavier than you were expecting, right?
Reilly and Phoenix lead the show as Eli and Charlie Sisters, respectively, a team of outlaws who have made a name for themselves as ruthless thieves and killers in the 1850s Pacific Northwest. Charlie is the brash, hair-trigger madman of the duo, an alcoholic who is heavily invested in the duo's mythological status. On the other hand, Eli is the more measured of the two, responsible for making sure his younger brother doesn't get into too much trouble.
After a violent opening shootout, the story is set in motion thanks to new orders from the Commodore (the Brothers' main boss). The intrepid, sophisticated John Morris (Jake Gyllenhaal with a wild accent) is currently on the tail of Hermann Kermit Warm (Riz Ahmed, re-teaming with his Nightcrawler co-star), a prospector in possession of a formula for tracking down gold. When they realize Morris has gone rogue with Warm, the Brothers ride off in pursuit, but this job is destined to get a lot more complicated from here.
Truth be told, it's hard to whittle down exactly what Audiard is doing here into a short review, especially when you're only going from one viewing. Like many other films at the festival, The Sisters Brothers is a snapshot of a transitional phase in history, one that sees Charlie's dream of the Old West replaced with Morris and Warm's new social vision. It's about a clash between myth and reality, between the desire to romanticize a world of lawless freedom and the assessment of that freedom's violent damage.
This is a challenging take on the Western, yet the film's truth lies in its core performances, specifically from Reilly and Phoenix. Yes, Gyllenhaal and Ahmed are marvelous as a pair of would-be idealists caught in a precarious situation, but this film belongs to those dastardly brothers. The two actors are working in such different keys, which makes it all the more impressive to see how the characters intersect and clash. For Reilly's Eli, the script (written by Audiard and Thomas Bidegain) seeks to discover how his nearly parental relationship with Charlie came to pass, revealing information at a measured, intelligent rate. There's a deep sadness within The Sisters Brothers, and Reilly seems to hold much of it.
Phoenix, probably one of the finest actors working today, gets the chance to play around with a showy, internally tortured character, the kind of man who could explode at any minute. If Reilly's Eli holds the key to the film's melancholy spirit, Phoenix's Charlie possesses much of its thematic pathos. The younger, more unpredictable of the pair demonstrates a greater capacity for violence and egotistical inflation; he wants his own legend to be intimidated and feared. Audiard and Phoenix patiently chip away at Charlie's own machismo, culminating in a conclusion that's both harrowing and heartfelt.
Violence is an infrequent occurrence in The Sisters Brothers, but it always feels viscerally real. Audiard seeks to investigate and de-construct the mythos of the gun-slinging outlaws, finding the deeply held emotional rationale for these shootouts and skirmishes in a brotherhood based on conflict. And at that level, the film proposes a different path to riches and peace, one that may be just out of Eli and Charlie's reach. Yes, The Sisters Brothers is a strange and unusual Western, even a bit too sluggish at times. But I can guarantee one thing - every viewer will walk out of the theater with something to think about.
THE FINAL GRADE: B+ (7.8/10)
Images courtesy of Film Fest 919/Annapurna
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