The Indian Runner (1991)

Seeing Into The Wild this year was a kind of minor revelation: to discover that Sean Penn could shoot such a beautiful and surprising visual story and also coach rich natural performances from his cast. Who knew that Sean Penn had this kind of talent in him behind the camera...?

Oh.

...apparently I never saw The Indian Runner.

In many ways, The Indian Runner is the very thing that people like me have been holding up as such a breath of fresh air in 2007: a lean and stylish character-driven drama that hangs as much on the aesthetics of the 1970's as the very particular vision of its director. There's a funny contradiction to the movie, balancing a particular 70's chemistry that's been seen countless times with the confident, original eye of a new director. It's surprising the details that pop: a train pulling away behind tall grass, the camera finding shadows on the wall, the way that a car drives between two characters, interrupting a private moment. All of this is just a stone's throw from what was so exciting about the output of the early 70's. And like those films, The Indian Runner is stone-cold cool. Everything about this movies projects a sort of casual directness that pretty much lights me up as a movie-goer. This is some very large movie-going fun.

The story of two brothers was inspired by a Springsteen song and that's enough of a spoiler right there for anyone familiar with Highway Patrolman. The basic set-up is deceptively easy: the good brother tries to keep the bad brother out of trouble. But both the song and the film dig deeper than that.

Perhaps the biggest surprise of the film, given the source material, was Penn's decision not to use the Springsteen song at any point; I fully expected to hear it in the final minutes of the film or at the very least, the closing credits. However given that the film takes place before the Springsteen song was recorded and that the soundtrack is populated with very specific period songs, this seems like a deliberate decision. Even so, I could still feel the lyrics of the Springsteen song creeping up throughout the film, playing in my head even when there was no music on-screen:

Me and Franky laughin' and drinkin',
Nothin' feels better than blood on blood

Intentional or not, it's a pretty remarkable trick.

Here's another 2007 invention that was already pioneered in 1991: The Naked and Tattooed Viggo. For most people, Viggo Mortensen didn't really hit the cultural radar until this little trio of films calls Lord of the Rings came and went in theatres, but I've come to understand he was pumping out high (very high) quality character work for years before that. And he was virtually invisible in everything he did (I had to go back and rewatch his appearance in Carlito's Way just because I couldn't believe that was Viggo). However The Indian Runner is one of those movies where the fine Art of Viggo was anything but invisible. In fact, for a movie that would have been quite excellent without his performance (I'll get to the rest of the cast in a minute), the screen practically sizzles whenever he shows up. This young, greasy, baleful, devil-may-care Viggo can't be switched off on demand - he forces your attention. He's ridiculously good and I dare say as good as he's ever been in anything (current work included), particularly in the later scenes of the film.

The rest of the cast, not exactly bargain-bin talent, is equally excellent. David Morse, as good a lead as any, brings a stiff amount of patience and stability to the movie playing what could have been a thankless role for any other actor. This is one of those lead roles which is largely the "straight man" around which the story turns and when it's done right, it should come across as barely a performance at all. That's not easy and largely thankless, however Morse matches Mortensen's intensity in every way. This is, in every way, his film first.

There's also a very young Patricia Arquette, in a Mia Farrow haircut, providing a remarkably unpredictable performance as Viggo's child-like fiance.; a very gentle and understated performance from Charles Bronson; a tiny but despicable appearance by Dennis Hopper, and oh! some dude named Benicio Del Toro fresh off his star-making performance of Duke the Dog-Faced Boy in Big Top Pee-Wee (you think I joke??)

My point here is that everything - and everyone - is running at 100% in this film and the final output is a minor classic that I'm surprised more people don't talk about today. To be honest, I don't know what I was doing for the last 17 years that made me miss out on this one.