Slow-paced sad story of a young man (Ed Norton) who lives in a kind of evidence-free zone that is mostly inside his own head. He's an undistinguished, untalented loser who totes guns and seems to have a certain naive charm that appeals to inexperienced women.
Delusional loners with guns aren't rare on the screen. Here it's as if someone were analyzing the DNA of "Taxi Driver" and got it contaminated with bits of "Badlands" and "Lonely Are the Brave" and even "Shane." Some of the scenes are almost exact copies. Well, let's call them a homage. Instance Norton packing a pair of six shooters, talking to himself in the mirror while stoned. "You a screwhead? Well that's what we used to call you. Oh, you come from a long line of screwheads? Who you talking' to? You talking' -- you talking' to ME? Well, I'm the only one here." (I think I contaminated the DNA too.) Early in the film, the father of two kids (David Morse) advises the younger one, a boy, that there is nothing in the world as important as guts. You can't learn to have guts. You're born with them. (He passes on this advice to his son while playing with a double-action Colt peacemaker. "Peacemaker." Enjoy the irony.) Ed Norton turns out to have guts to spare. He's willing to take all kinds of risks, sometimes even going so far as to tell the truth. He falls for Evan Rachel Wood and vice versa and, despite her father's objections, Wood carries on with him in an innocent way. Don't worry. There are no nude shots of the toothsome Wood, nor any sex scenes, dammit. (She does appear in a swim suit and it must be said she's developing a pelvic girdle to be proud of.) She's still a teenager, young enough to dip a tentative toe into Norton's ideas but old enough to know where to draw the line about trying to live them out.
Basically the movie involves a confrontation between Norton and Morse. Failing in his efforts to get Wood to run away with him, Norton more or less kidnaps the boy and takes him on horseback into the mountains where they eat a rabbit and have a shoot out with the authorities. After a chase Norton is finally brought down in an empty, half-built skeletal and antiseptic housing project devouring what little Mediterranean wilderness is left on the outskirts of Los Angeles. Wounded, he stares about him and moans, "Lord, I don't want to die in a place like this." Amen, brother.
Well, we don't want to run out of space. There are a couple of interesting things about this movie and they make it well worth watching. The performances are uniformly good for one thing. The script takes us on a horseback tour of Norton's necrotic head without subjecting us to hallucinatory negative images, down-cranked cameras, second-long flashbacks or any other directorial self display.
Guns are all over the place. At one point or another, Bruce Dern points a rifle at Norton, the police point guns at Dern, Morse presses a revolver against Norton's head, Norton teaches the kid how to fan a six shooter, Norton shoots Morse, Morse shoots Norton, Norton shoots Wood, Norton shoots rabbit, cops shoot Norton, Norton shoots Dern, Norton shoots a rent-a-cop, and -- well, I forget. What it teaches us is very clear though. Guns don't kill people. People kill people. Therefor the solution is both clear and simple. Let's get rid of the people. Shoot 'em all down if we have to.
Last note, and this is important. If there is in any movie a hospital scene with a woman lying in bed unconscious, and if you can view that scene independent of the rest of the movie, you can judge the quality of the film from this one sample. A woman who is sick and all screwed up and lying in bed will look like Charlie's wife, Susan, in "Citizen Kane" after she tries to poison herself -- sweaty and ugly. A woman who is doing no more than playacting will look like the comatose Talia Shire in "Rocky III," with her face fully turned to the camera, carefully groomed, with false eyelashes like window awnings, and lip rouge or whatever it is, ready for the high school reunion. In "Down in the Valley," it's not bad. Evan Rachel Wood is unconscious and hanging on to life, and her head is tilted only slightly cameraward and her makeup is more subdued than in other scenes. Before entering the theater or renting the DVD, ask if there is a scene with a sick woman in bed. Then ask if you can watch that one scene before you dig out your wallet.
I may have sounded more critical of this film than I meant to. It's really not bad. And, homages to "My Darling Clementine" aside, there are times when it's thoroughly original and effective. Catch, for instance, the spooky scene in the mountains when Norton leads the kid off into the darkness, then disappears in the fog and the trees. It's cleverly written, photographed, and directed.
Delusional loners with guns aren't rare on the screen. Here it's as if someone were analyzing the DNA of "Taxi Driver" and got it contaminated with bits of "Badlands" and "Lonely Are the Brave" and even "Shane." Some of the scenes are almost exact copies. Well, let's call them a homage. Instance Norton packing a pair of six shooters, talking to himself in the mirror while stoned. "You a screwhead? Well that's what we used to call you. Oh, you come from a long line of screwheads? Who you talking' to? You talking' -- you talking' to ME? Well, I'm the only one here." (I think I contaminated the DNA too.) Early in the film, the father of two kids (David Morse) advises the younger one, a boy, that there is nothing in the world as important as guts. You can't learn to have guts. You're born with them. (He passes on this advice to his son while playing with a double-action Colt peacemaker. "Peacemaker." Enjoy the irony.) Ed Norton turns out to have guts to spare. He's willing to take all kinds of risks, sometimes even going so far as to tell the truth. He falls for Evan Rachel Wood and vice versa and, despite her father's objections, Wood carries on with him in an innocent way. Don't worry. There are no nude shots of the toothsome Wood, nor any sex scenes, dammit. (She does appear in a swim suit and it must be said she's developing a pelvic girdle to be proud of.) She's still a teenager, young enough to dip a tentative toe into Norton's ideas but old enough to know where to draw the line about trying to live them out.
Basically the movie involves a confrontation between Norton and Morse. Failing in his efforts to get Wood to run away with him, Norton more or less kidnaps the boy and takes him on horseback into the mountains where they eat a rabbit and have a shoot out with the authorities. After a chase Norton is finally brought down in an empty, half-built skeletal and antiseptic housing project devouring what little Mediterranean wilderness is left on the outskirts of Los Angeles. Wounded, he stares about him and moans, "Lord, I don't want to die in a place like this." Amen, brother.
Well, we don't want to run out of space. There are a couple of interesting things about this movie and they make it well worth watching. The performances are uniformly good for one thing. The script takes us on a horseback tour of Norton's necrotic head without subjecting us to hallucinatory negative images, down-cranked cameras, second-long flashbacks or any other directorial self display.
Guns are all over the place. At one point or another, Bruce Dern points a rifle at Norton, the police point guns at Dern, Morse presses a revolver against Norton's head, Norton teaches the kid how to fan a six shooter, Norton shoots Morse, Morse shoots Norton, Norton shoots Wood, Norton shoots rabbit, cops shoot Norton, Norton shoots Dern, Norton shoots a rent-a-cop, and -- well, I forget. What it teaches us is very clear though. Guns don't kill people. People kill people. Therefor the solution is both clear and simple. Let's get rid of the people. Shoot 'em all down if we have to.
Last note, and this is important. If there is in any movie a hospital scene with a woman lying in bed unconscious, and if you can view that scene independent of the rest of the movie, you can judge the quality of the film from this one sample. A woman who is sick and all screwed up and lying in bed will look like Charlie's wife, Susan, in "Citizen Kane" after she tries to poison herself -- sweaty and ugly. A woman who is doing no more than playacting will look like the comatose Talia Shire in "Rocky III," with her face fully turned to the camera, carefully groomed, with false eyelashes like window awnings, and lip rouge or whatever it is, ready for the high school reunion. In "Down in the Valley," it's not bad. Evan Rachel Wood is unconscious and hanging on to life, and her head is tilted only slightly cameraward and her makeup is more subdued than in other scenes. Before entering the theater or renting the DVD, ask if there is a scene with a sick woman in bed. Then ask if you can watch that one scene before you dig out your wallet.
I may have sounded more critical of this film than I meant to. It's really not bad. And, homages to "My Darling Clementine" aside, there are times when it's thoroughly original and effective. Catch, for instance, the spooky scene in the mountains when Norton leads the kid off into the darkness, then disappears in the fog and the trees. It's cleverly written, photographed, and directed.