Abel Morales is a Latin American immigrant in New York
City in 1981. He owns and operates his own heating oil business amid a social
and business landscape that is in decay. Corruption in his industry is rampant
to the point that the Assistant D.A. (David Oyelowo) is lumping him in with all
oil companies in an investigation. The city itself is witnessing its most
violent time ever. The radio news is constantly recounting the previous day’s tally
of violent crimes, a heavy load weighing the city down along with the cold
wintry mood set by director J.C. Chandor and his production designer John
Goldsmith and cinematographer Bradford Young.
Abel is a suave and savvy entrepreneur, and allegedly an
honest one. He insists (perhaps a little too often) that he refuses to go down
the rabbit hole of engaging in illegal practices that could give him a
competitive edge but will ultimately undermine everything he’s worked for. As an
immigrant, he embodies the American dream. He’s hardly recognizable as Hispanic,
bearing only the faint hint of a long-forgotten accent, but his Spanish
language ability is still there when he needs to speak earnestly with the wife
of an employee in trouble. He says twice at the insinuation of malfeasance that
he follows “standard industry practices.” What does he mean by that? If the
standard is corruption, rigging scales, and cooking the books, then is he not
actually running the perfectly honest business he claims? I think Chandor
leaves it purposely ambiguous. At the very least, he’s more honest than his
competitors and dead-set on beating them on better service and better tactics.
Oscar Isaac is simply unreal as Abel. I thought he was
very good last year in Inside
Llewyn Davis. To watch him as Abel and think about Llewyn is to
experience this odd feeling where you’re imaging the same man inhabit two
characters that are so different. It’s not just that he delivers his lines
perfectly , always with clear articulation ad control befitting the measured
character of Abel, maintaining composure even in the face of some severely
frustrating events, but that he so completely transforms into Abel. You can’t
see anything of Llewyn Davis here except a slight physical resemblance. And
very slight at that because Isaac physically carries himself as a different
man. Abel walks tall and proud whereas Llewyn slumped and shuffled.
Abels’ business is being threatened by the rise in city
violence which directly affects him by means of regular hijackings of his
delivery trucks. The perpetrators beat the drivers and then make off with the
oil. Abel isn’t sure if his competitors are directly hiring these thugs, but at
the very least someone is buying the stolen supply. The ramifications run deep
as the Teamsters Union wants to arm his drivers to protect themselves, risking
escalating violence and further criminal investigation. The timing is critical
also because Abel has just put a significant amount of personal savings down on
a piece of property that will help grow his business, but the bank might balk
at finalizing the loan.
This makes Abel a man who’s up against a wall. Men in his
position in movies have traditionally lashed out or resorted to means they
previously rejected, but he is steadfast in his resolve to remain pure
self-made man. The only question is to what extent he deludes himself about his
purity. Surely he’s on a moral high ground when compared to his competitors.
And he’s adamant that he doesn’t’ want to use violence to stop the violence
that’s been visited upon him. His wife Anna (Jessica Chastain) wants him to man
up and protect his business, his investment, and his family. There are hints
that she could call on her father and brothers (the presumption being mob
connections) to help out. She’s the tough soldier in the family, playing the
meek role of wife, mother, and company bookkeeper, but she has more spitfire
and rage while Able shames others with his eyes and soft-spoken words.
Chandor continues to truly impress with the way he
reinvents himself with each movie. His debut, Margin Call, was a measured study of the eve of the financial
collapse. There was no trumped up drama, but just talk and facts out of which
he spun incredible tension. With All
Is Lost he moved from the interiors of a Manhattan office building to
the open ocean and a single man surviving a shipwreck. Now he goes three and a
half decades into the past to the dirty and murderous New York that existed
before the streets were cleaned up. This is a cold city and not just because of
its winter setting. Everything in the period details feels cold. It’s mostly
overcast or the sunshine is dull. Graffiti covers every surface of a subway
car. Chandor and Goldsmith create an atmosphere of cruelty and harshness. Alex
Ebert’s synthesizer heavy score adds to that ambience intoning muted minor keys
and haunting melodies.
If I have any reservations about the movie it’s that I
would have liked a bit more development of how Abel’s adherence to his
philosophy and business practice affects his employees, specifically how he
keeps any in spite of their victimization at the hands of thugs just for being
in the wrong place at the wrong time. One character is beaten badly when his
truck is hijacked at the beginning of the family. Abel coaxes him back into the
truck where he winds up making a dangerous decision that has terrible
repercussions. I didn’t find the conclusion to his arc entirely convincing, but
recognized and accepted the symbolism with regard to Abel. But what of the other
drivers who must be scared? What about a young and eager salesman who takes a
beating on the job? His story is dropped. I think there’s something worth exploring
from a character perspective in terms of how Abel is convincing and charismatic
enough to get people to return. But these are ultimately minor criticisms that
only occurred to me upon reflection, the movie having so completely enveloped
and transported me while I was caught in its hypnotic gaze.
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