A delayed title card is a bold cinematic move, a deliberate tactic usually used to punctuate a powerhouse setpiece full of invention and intrigue (see: “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,” “127 Hours”). It jumps in as a provocation, as though to say, “You thought that was cool? We haven’t even shown you the opening credits yet, so strap in.” In “Too Late,” after a 15-minute single take involving a fedora-wearing Rider Strong and Dash Mihok as hiking drug dealers talking movie tropes, a stripper who drops the word “sanguine” in conversation with a gangster-turned-park ranger, and sloppily executed, Altman-esque zooms across the skyline of downtown Los Angeles, my only thought instead to it all was simply “Jesus, no.”
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What first-time director Dennis Hauck establishes here is a bizarro LA that’s just picked up from where “Pulp Fiction” left off, and yet where “The Boondock Saints” hasn’t happened yet — it’s the only timeline in which making a non-linear ensemble crime drama appears like a supremely fresh idea. Overall a genre throwback, the film pits private detective Sampson (a game John Hawkes) against a cast of strip club owners, thugs, and dames on a case to find a missing woman (Crystal Reed), and lets nary a beat of celluloid flicker by without a slick ‘70s jukebox tune or rapid-fire dialogue exchange jolting into the mix.
Hauck and DP Bill Fernandez made the decision to shoot entirely on 35mm film, and they work that element into the formalist makeup of the narrative: each new situation that Sampson encounters is covered in one Steadicam take, and the scene cuts or fades to black just as the print’s cigarette burn blips on the top right of the screen. Couple that with a section that revolves around an ex-dancer moonlighting as a drive-in theatre projectionist, and you’ve got a film drunk on the magic of celluloid. But a 35mm film mag equaling a scene is less a complete narrative and more a fall semester at NYU; while Alejandro González Iñárritu led a brilliant cast on a tightwire act in “Birdman” via similar restrictions, it’s obvious here what form looks like plastered onto an unjustified story.
I counted one truly affecting moment in the film, and it comes from actress Natalie Zea as a mother who loses her only daughter. Granted, the scene around it is one big emotional third-person confession to remind us that we could be watching “Paris, Texas” instead, but Hauck wisely cuts the music, tricks, and quips to stay focused on Zea’s face — the actress actually conveys her character’s thoughts beautifully rather than letting the flourishes flood in to do the job.
The other performances — and this includes Hawkes, Robert Forster, Jeff Fahey, and Dichen Lachman – are simply tethered to Hauck’s overly verbose, indulgent, and oftentimes ugly script (tossing the n-word into Rider Strong’s mouth only emphasizes the lazily-held Tarantino aping). The women roles are sliver-thin as well, and a scene in which Vail Bloom is forced to play — as a doting housewife punchline, no less — an entire 15-minute scene bottomless just read as uncomfortable and exploitative, even with the genre-soaked tone that Hauck continues trying to push across.
Aside from the aforementioned Zea, Hawkes is really the only real highlight of the film. Credit to Hauck here: he is the Philip Marlowe reboot that Altman could easily approve. Wearing a well-tailored suit and sucking an eternally cashed cigarette throughout, Hawkes possesses a slew of perfect deadpan reactions to mirror the twists of fate in front of Sampson (his well-timed utterance of “I need to change my life” takes the funniest moment of the film). And of course, as exampled in “Martha Marcy May Marlene,” any chance to hear Hawkes perform solo on guitar is time well spent. It’s time well needed, too, as it provides a moment of reflection to remember why we came — Hawkes — and wonder how he found himself in such a confounding misfire. [D]
It took courage to believe the world was round, and it takes a good pair of balls to admit that this seemingly pretentious film is utterly groundbreaking at its core. I guess maybe I\’m old-fashioned but I hope this film paves the way for other stylized independent fare as I’m tried of unscripted conversations with a lot of unnecessary “Umms" and “Ahhs" that seem oh-so-2002. As a former screenwriting teacher, it’s refreshing to see such care put into language. Meta or not, I appreciated the color. As a woman, I wasn’t bothered by the nudity at all, as our leading man never objectifies the beautiful naked subjects. Even more refreshing is that these dames remind me of pre-code Hollywood, when films dared to make a woman simultaneously virtuous and sexually in charge. All of these scantily-clad and bare-cheeked women take charge and stand up shoulder-to-shoulder to an always stellar John Hawkes. These girls are no victims, they know what they’re doing and who they’re doing it with. Everyone is indeed entitled to their opinion, and there’s no denying that this film is divisive. Though it seems to me that every choice is deliberate and executed with care and respect for the filmmaking craft. Mr. Hauck, a filmmaker – and I’m not using the word lightly – seems to love cinema, and whether or not you fall for his love letter to the art form, I think he made the movie he intended to make, and I for one think it’s splendid. I can’t wait to see what he does next.
TOO LATE is indeed a polarizing film — one that distinguishes those with taste from those with none. Anyone with a modicum of cinematic intelligence will recognize this movie as a sham. What it felt like to me was a Larry Bishop film, and that\’s not praise. Sure, it was shot on 35mm and I admire the filmmakers\’ insistence that it be presented that way. Yeah, it\’s a conceptual feat: it\’s shot in five unbroken 18-minute (the length of a reel) takes. But it\’s purely a stunt; this does not serve the narrative nor the film\’s text (it has none) in any particular way, and this exact thing has been done before, in Rob Tregenza\’s 1988 feature TALKING TO STRANGERS, a film that actually has something on its mind. With TOO LATE, it\’s obvious from the get-go — from the first few minutes — that the film is going to be awful, with its crassness of spirit and sub-Tarantino… excuse me, sub-Troy Duffy dialogue. Other apparent influences are Lynch, Wenders, and Altman, among others, but everything feels recycled and stale (e.g., Julianne Moore\’s naked-from-the-waist-down bit from SHORT CUTS is recycled here), like director Dennis Hauck had felt, upon watching all of these films he admired, that he wish he\’d made them, and making TOO LATE was a fantasy fulfillment and nothing more. After reading positive reviews elsewhere, I wondered what kind of collective brain-damage the critical establishment had endured, but am heartened to see this appropriately negative review, which perceptively catalogues most of what’s wrong with this absolutely grotesque movie. Misfire indeed.
LMAO I may have to watch it again on Wednesday and won\’t be surprised if I see Thor in the credits as the steadicam op. How the F did they pull that off!?
Yeah Elizabeth, i\’m not sure what screening you were at but wasn\’t there only 1? Cuz I was there and I had Crystal Reed fan-girls in front of me who were gasping and clapping the whole time. if the baby Teen Wolfers could appreciate this movie I\’m not sure why you had such a hard time
I\’m flummoxed by your cinematography "fall semester at NYU" comment. I\’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out the last NYU movie that shot one 20 (plus) minute take with such complexity (like zooming in to a building that is a mile away to see the other side of a phone conversation and then simultaneously covering it in close-up with (apparently) a second 35mm camera?) or a professional studio blockbuster for that matter. Maybe you can point me in the right direction for those films? I totally agree about the fedora, though. Ridiculous!
I guess we can all agree TOO LATE is a polarizing film. BUT I LOVED THE SHIT OUT OF IT. I much more agree with the ain\’t it cool dot com review.
"We’re talking CHILDREN OF MEN, this-needs-to-be-studied-in-film-school level work. "
And I don\’t know what premiere you went to, but I didn\’t see one person checking their phones to the one I went to.
A spot-on review Charlie. One could ring out the pretension and entitlement of this film like a soaking wet sponge. There\’s a reason the audience was on their phones, dozing off, or muttering to one another during the premiere… you summed it up without the less desirable adjectives I would have.
I have a filmmaking background and I bought a ticket to this film. After watching, I couldn\’t stop thinking about it so I scoured the internet this morning looking for any write-ups, assuming that they would be glowing reviews. I assumed that anyone who saw it was going to point out of all the nuances that I thought made it so unique, and frankly, brilliant. Then I found this review and I couldn\’t disagree more. I thought the film was ambitious and bold with a great cast and a very strong tribute to crime drama and film noir. The script is solid and far more interesting than any writing we\’ve seen recently (if you are reading into that, then yes, you are correct).
I guess if I was coming up with this review and I got to the end of it, and my last line was, "…Hawkes-and wonder how he found himself in such a confounding misfire…" then I would probably rethink my entire review. I would probably muse, "As a well-respected actor who is choosy with his material, why DID Hawkes do this film? I probably just didn\’t get it. I should start over."
I\’m not a movie critic, but to make a comparison to Birdman, a film still in development when Too Late was already shooting, is very fall-semester-at (insert name of mediocre journalism school here). Even if you want to be the first person to "write something" about a movie you\’ve seen, you still have to do the research.
I think what annoys me most about former production assistant wanna-be Hollywood people turned two-bit movie review blogger types is that they\’ve probably never, ever made their own film. How can someone so harshly critique something they\’ve never done themselves, especially when it is such a brilliant execution of filmmaking?
If you really want to talk about fresh ideas, then maybe check your played-out "hater" tendencies.