Harlan (Edward Norton), a psychopathic man who cannot begin to manage his own incomprehensible life, volunteers his talents to nearly ruin the lives of several other people in a trendily dysfunctional single parent family he gloms onto. The screenplay is so gravid with circumstances that defy logic and credibility that the most generous thing one might say is that this story is meant to be taken as a fable. But if that's the case, what is it a fable about? Apparently it is about the ironically twisted remnants of a 19th century western myth, conjured by Real Estate Developers and Hollywood, a phony old west that is layered on the sprawling suburbs, jammed freeways and tacky streets that make up the real Southern California.
Harlan (not his given name), the former juvenile delinquent son of a rabbi, passes himself off as a cowboy from South Dakota. He even tries to convince himself of the validity of this identity, practicing gunslinger moves in front of the mirror in his rented room. He meets up with Tobe, short for October (Evan Rachel Wood), and they quickly get it on. Harlan soon insinuates himself into Tobe's and her kid brother Lonnie's life. Tobe stays out all night with Harlan, and there's an incident with the police involving Harlan and Tobe "borrowing" a horse without permission. Lonnie is dazzled by Harlan's attention.
None of this sits well with Wade, the father, who is a corrections officer, decorated war hero and gun collector. Wade orders Harlan out of the family's life, which merely whets Harlan's appetite for deeper involvement, a quest to rescue Tobe and Lonnie from Wade. Things seem destined for disaster from the getgo and that's what happens.
Trouble is that the pivotal character, Harlan, is not believable. He seems too resourceful to be desperate, too smooth to be crazy, too big a knucklehead to be a con, and too goodhearted to be plain evil. Yet at various points we are asked to think he is each or all of these things. He just doesn't ring true, despite the prodigious skills brought to the role by one of our best actors.
Evan Rachel Wood does OK here, especially in the transitional scenes when she begins to catch on that there's something way wrong with her fast moving boyfriend, but I preferred her similar character in the more substantive film, "Thirteen." David Morse's Wade is a highly believable mix of incendiary aggression and genuine though inconsistent parental concern.
Rory Culkin also shines here as Lonnie, a kid hungering for adult male closeness, something Wade does not offer but Harlan does. The film might have risen to greater stature had this theme been made more central, developing further the parallel between Lonnie's deprivation and vulnerability, and Harlan's own estrangement from his father, which we learn about only through letters Harlan writes to him.
The best thing about the movie is its ironic portrayal of place. Writer/director David Jacobson created some wonderful scenes to visually contrast the nostalgic old west trope with life today in the San Fernando Valley: a real shootout on a western movie set; man and horse hiding not in the rocks but in an unfinished new tract McMansion; six gun target practice in a river made of concrete; undeveloped hills intercut with freeway traffic. A good short film might have been made of such scenes, a meditation on what suburban sprawl has done to obliterate nature.
I know a fellow (whose father played cowboy bit parts in Hollywood movies many years ago) who tried to create a horse-based life for himself in the Valley. He ended up moving to Idaho instead, to an area that is fast becoming a little San Fernando Valley itself hese days. My grade: C+ 5/10
Harlan (not his given name), the former juvenile delinquent son of a rabbi, passes himself off as a cowboy from South Dakota. He even tries to convince himself of the validity of this identity, practicing gunslinger moves in front of the mirror in his rented room. He meets up with Tobe, short for October (Evan Rachel Wood), and they quickly get it on. Harlan soon insinuates himself into Tobe's and her kid brother Lonnie's life. Tobe stays out all night with Harlan, and there's an incident with the police involving Harlan and Tobe "borrowing" a horse without permission. Lonnie is dazzled by Harlan's attention.
None of this sits well with Wade, the father, who is a corrections officer, decorated war hero and gun collector. Wade orders Harlan out of the family's life, which merely whets Harlan's appetite for deeper involvement, a quest to rescue Tobe and Lonnie from Wade. Things seem destined for disaster from the getgo and that's what happens.
Trouble is that the pivotal character, Harlan, is not believable. He seems too resourceful to be desperate, too smooth to be crazy, too big a knucklehead to be a con, and too goodhearted to be plain evil. Yet at various points we are asked to think he is each or all of these things. He just doesn't ring true, despite the prodigious skills brought to the role by one of our best actors.
Evan Rachel Wood does OK here, especially in the transitional scenes when she begins to catch on that there's something way wrong with her fast moving boyfriend, but I preferred her similar character in the more substantive film, "Thirteen." David Morse's Wade is a highly believable mix of incendiary aggression and genuine though inconsistent parental concern.
Rory Culkin also shines here as Lonnie, a kid hungering for adult male closeness, something Wade does not offer but Harlan does. The film might have risen to greater stature had this theme been made more central, developing further the parallel between Lonnie's deprivation and vulnerability, and Harlan's own estrangement from his father, which we learn about only through letters Harlan writes to him.
The best thing about the movie is its ironic portrayal of place. Writer/director David Jacobson created some wonderful scenes to visually contrast the nostalgic old west trope with life today in the San Fernando Valley: a real shootout on a western movie set; man and horse hiding not in the rocks but in an unfinished new tract McMansion; six gun target practice in a river made of concrete; undeveloped hills intercut with freeway traffic. A good short film might have been made of such scenes, a meditation on what suburban sprawl has done to obliterate nature.
I know a fellow (whose father played cowboy bit parts in Hollywood movies many years ago) who tried to create a horse-based life for himself in the Valley. He ended up moving to Idaho instead, to an area that is fast becoming a little San Fernando Valley itself hese days. My grade: C+ 5/10