Damon stars as Bill Baker, an Oklahoma roughneck who is introduced working a thankless construction job, then caring for his frail mother-in-law. McCarthy swiftly paints a familiar figure of American masculinity. Bill smokes cigarettes while blasting American rock music in his pick-up truck. He wears boxy jeans, plaid button-downs, work boots, and a battered baseball cap as if it\u2019s a uniform. He\u2019s not a man who walks with swagger, but a stiff lumber, as if his back were made of a roughly chopped panel of wood. All of this makes Bill stand out like a sore thumb when he lands in the French metropolis of Marseilles. He\u2019s aware but doesn\u2019t care; the only thing on his mind is his daughter. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Allison Baker (Abigail Breslin) begins behind bars, convicted of a murder she swears she didn\u2019t commit. Bill scrimps to visit her and do whatever meager chores she offers, like laundry or running a note to her lawyer. Still, there\u2019s a coldness in Allison\u2019s tone\u2014a tone that starkly lacks Bill\u2019s Okey accent\u2014which signals she doesn\u2019t trust him with much else. Through tight-lipped grumbles, Bill will eventually confess he wasn\u2019t much of a dad when she was growing up. Unspoken is his deep desire to prove himself to her now, when she needs him most. So, when her lawyer says there\u2019s no hope for her sentence being overturned, Bill turns amateur detective. Sure, he doesn\u2019t speak the language, or understand the customs, or care much about any kind of consequences. But he\u2019s American. He\u2019ll forge a path. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the hands of a lesser filmmaker, Stillwater<\/em> would be a cheesy feel-bad-then-feel-good drama, where a scrappy underdog battles hard and wins the day. However, McCarthy is known for character-driven dramas that speak boldly to politics, like the immigrant-focused The Visitor<\/em> and Spotlight<\/em>, which shined an unblinking glare upon the Catholic church\u2019s child molestation coverup. Here, he uses the story of a determined American dad unmoored in Marseilles to illustrate the damage done by myopic American intervention. <\/p>\n\n\n\n At first, Bill seems a mild-mannered man. He\u2019s quiet but polite with plenty of yes ma\u2019am<\/em>s and thank you<\/em>s. When pushed or disappointed, however, he erupts into f-bombs and even outbursts of violence. Still, there\u2019s a hand-dog charm about him, especially as he cozies up to single mom Virginie (Camille Cottin) and her young daughter Maya (Lilou Siauvaud). One neighborly gesture with a splash of Southern charm, and this lovely local agrees to play translator for Bill. Before long, Virginie is his only ally in a world he refuses to understand, barging through in his quest without much concern for how it affects her or her child. <\/p>\n\n\n\n You might anticipate that with Damon in the lead, we\u2019re meant to instantly root for Bill. But McCarthy complicates the audience\u2019s connection to his surly American hero. Damon\u2019s natural charm is played down. His brilliant smile is MIA, while his familiar, boyish face is hidden by a gruff beard. His performance is opaque, leaving us uncertain of what Bill believes or wants, beyond his daughter back home. When questioned directly about his politics\u2014(\u201cDid you vote for Trump?\u201d)\u2014he sidesteps, deflecting with an embarrassed personal admission. When challenged about how far he\u2019d go to free his daughter, his answer is likewise ambiguous. <\/p>\n\n\n\n His inner monologue goes similarly unspoken. We are left to hang upon Bill what we gather from the clues of his character. But this could allow for two radically different accounts, making him as much a mystery as his daughter\u2019s case. Is he a \u201cgood guy\u201d so determined to do right by his kid that he\u2019s tragically blinded by what wrongs he might commit along the way? Or is he a cagier figure, fully aware of how his actions and almost oafish charm impacts those around him, and thus manipulating others to get what he wants? <\/p>\n\n\n\n Here\u2019s where McCarthy plus Damon proves a confounding combination. McCarthy has made films that unapologetically elucidate liberal politics, and while Damon has done the same (Syriana, Green Zone,<\/em> and Promised Land<\/em>, which he co-wrote, leap to mind), the actor has spent the past few years clouding his left-facing public persona<\/a> by making tone-deaf statements\u2014as a \u201cfather of daughters\u201d\u2014<\/a>and tone-deaf movies, which have been accused of Asian erasure (The Great Wall)<\/em>, treating anti-Black racism as a gimmick (Suburbicon)<\/em>, and turning marginalization into a playful but problematic premise (Downsizing)<\/em>. Here, Damon plays a character that might seem like the affable everymen he\u2019s played before, but there\u2019s something darker in Stillwater<\/em>. Whether or not Damon recognizes this evolution of his niche is another conversation. But for the context of casting, both he and Breslin are superb choices. <\/p>\n\n\n\n She was the adorable child star from Little Miss Sunshine<\/em>. He was Good Will Hunting<\/em>. We\u2019ve rooted for both when they played lovable underdogs, but here we flinch as they bark and bite. Our expectations are challenged not only by fittingly grim performances, but also a narrative that twists into unsettling terrain, careening into a third act so radical that it feels McCarthy leaps to a different movie. The tone and content shifts from the patient character-dramas we\u2019ve come to expect from McCarthy to something more akin to Denis Villeneuve\u2019s crime thrillers. It\u2019s jarring. Just as you might anticipate the film coming to a bittersweet conclusion, a new lead drops and pitches all our expectations out the pick-up truck window. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Frankly, I\u2019m torn on this turn. Are we meant to be so thrown? Or has McCarthy miscalculated by veering hard into genre? Viewing the film as an allegory about American interventionism, Bill\u2019s third act choices make sense as they baldly expose the kind of short-sightedness that has caused foreign devastation over generations. But does it make sense for his character to make such choices? It\u2019s hard to say, as Bill\u2019s mystery is never quite solved. Even as the dust settles, even as he breathes a heavy sigh and utters the film\u2019s final haunting proclamation, we\u2019re left to wonder. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Structurally and tonally, the third act is a challenge. But the longer I linger on it, the more I admire the risk taken by McCarthy (and his co-writers Thomas Bidegain, Marcus Hinchey, and No\u00e9 Debr\u00e9). At a glance, Stillwater<\/em> seems like a Clint Eastwood-directed drama, which would relish in a story of American heroism in the face of great adversity (be it enemy combatants or a fake-news-peddling female reporter). But like Bill, there\u2019s much going on beneath the surface. Perhaps Damon and the crime drama are the lure that hooks you, maybe even a bait-and-switch. But what drags you in deep is the sinking feeling that snags in the final act. That\u2019s where McCarthy has us wriggling in unease. That is where he leaves us. And maybe that\u2019s brilliant, because we shouldn\u2019t just be let off this hook. “Stillwater” is in theaters Friday.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/07\/stillwater2-scaled-1024x682.jpg\")
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