Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Black Mass


The opening shot of Black Mass is a closeup of the mean mug of Jesse Plemons. He plays Kevin Weeks, one of James Whitey Bulger's right-hand men. His look is a cold, remorseless one and it stares deep into your soul. Plemons's face is perfect for this genre, so much so that I wouldn't be surprised if it made its way into the next Scorsese gangster flick. I remember that face with vivid detail. It stays with you long after you've left the theater. Unfortunately, not much else does.


As easily as I can recall the opening scene, I can't for the life of me, remember the final one. That's Black Mass in a nutshell. It starts strong but ultimately fizzles out despite any hopeful optimism that one may have found yet another mob movie to re-watch an absurd number of times. I think Mass's underwhelming aftertaste is due in large part to the movie's faulty structure, or better yet, its inability to work itself into a later. It never really seems to hit its stride.

The story opens with Weeks preparing to give a testimonial against his former employer, Whitey Bulger. It flashes black from that point, displaying the year "1977" on the screen, to when Weeks first began climbing the ranks in the Winter Hill gang. It's an intriguing beginning but the film doesn't remain consistent with the foundation it's just laid. One would think that after the movie opened with Weeks's face then flashed back to a scene in which the first person we see is Weeks, that you were getting that and the ensuing scenes from Weeks's point of view, which would result directly in.....more Weeks! However, more Weeks is not what we get; consequently the film gets more weak. (Sorry. It was right there.)

(A face only an amateur film reviewer could love?)

Instead of an engaging first person account from Weeks set up perfectly by the plot in the first five minutes, we ultimately get two other similar scenes of former Bulger henchmen ratting him out to the Feds, both of which get their own flashback segments. And somewhere in the middle of all this we get another year, this time it's 1983 I think, projected onto the screen.  Sounds confusing, doesn't it. And while the film's structure is less confusing than merely ineffective, you can see how the story could struggle building any type of momentum. Lost in all the flashbacks and time hopping is a would-be career performance from Plemons that, if fully realized, would have had Oscar worthy potential.

I mean, Plemons's character is present, but he's pushed to the background far too often and sometimes disappears all together. I realize the movie's not about him, but his character is magnetic. In addition, there are other really good performances that are almost forgotten in the "Depp's" of the film. (Sorry again. Last one. I promise.) Cumberbatch, Bacon, Peter Sarsgaard are all solid but are forced to play a very soft second fiddle to the two leads, which may be the worst performances of the film.

I'm a pretty big fan of both Joel Edgerton and Johnny Depp, so I certainly wanted to like Black Mass. I tried. I slept on it. Initially I thought I did. Now I'm certain I didn't. And I'm sorry to say that Edgerton and Depp were part of the reason. Edgerton is over the top and unbelievable as FBI agent and Bulger confidant John Connolly. Depp's Bulger looks bigger than life, but in reality he's more aesthetics than substance. The silver hair and blue eyes are startling at first, though like the film itself, eventually lose their luster. I could argue that his appearance even becomes distracting. Mass's clunky-ness and lack of screen time for a strong supporting cast leaves much to be desired. Black Mass? More like Black Meh! (.....I can't help myself.)