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BEFORE THE DEVIL KNOWS YOU’RE DEAD
Directed by Sidney Lumet.
Produced by Michael Cerenzie, Brian Linse, Paul Parmar & William S. Gilmore.
Written by Kelly Masterson.
Director of Photography Ron Fortunato.
Edited by Tom Swartwout.
Music by Carter Burwell.
Released by ThinkFilm.
USA. 117 min. Rated R.
With Philip Seymour Hoffman, Ethan Hawke, Albert Finney, Marisa Tomei & Rosemary Harris.

There is something surprisingly un-formulaic about Sidney Lumet’s classically executed new heist thriller, and it’s not just the fact that the mom and pop store being robbed here is actually owned by the perps’ parents. The twist is that an operatic melodrama laden with death, wickedness, and Sophoclean betrayal seems like an organic outgrowth of modern life – the crime is not simply believable, it becomes almost forgivable.

Brothers Hank and Andy live out two different versions of urban malaise. Hank (Ethan Hawke), a poor and likable nebbish, is desperately trying to pay child support to his bitter wife and condescending daughter, while Andy (Philip Seymour Hoffman), a scheming, cool-headed materialist, is looking to throw more money at his floundering marriage. On paper, their decision to rob the family jewelry store sounds like a malevolent overreaction to these mundane dilemmas. On celluloid, the actors’ dead-on portrayal of the overwhelming need for money, love, and a fresh-start elevates these “trivial” woes to a matter of life and death.

Hawke’s performance is a veritable X-ray of a body under stress – his gestures and words throbbing like a raw bundle of nerves. His response to the insidiously difficult snags of daily life and to debilitating tragedy are both painfully realistic and, for that, astounding. Hoffman, confirming his reign as character actor extraordinaire, superbly animates a sleazy crook with touching glimpses of vulnerability. To soften the juggernaut force of these powerhouse actors, Andy’s coquettish trophy wife (Marisa Tomei) serves a sexual distraction from the emotional overload of the film. Of course, Tomei ensures that even the secondary role of a sex kitten is nuanced and tender.

Propelling the acting is a crisply assertive storyline, artfully inching events forward with occasional splices in the timeline and perspective. The camera work is smooth and the music unabashedly dramatic. It’s almost as if Lumet thinks he’s making a typical botched heist flick, blissfully unaware of its smart and original message. Actually, it’s not so much a message as a question: are Hank and Andy the moral miscarriage of a misanthropic modernity or just two bad seeds looking for an easy way out? Yana Litovsky
October 26, 2007