Dancing With The Devil

Sidney Lumet has been responsible for probably some of the greatest American films we have seen. Like any filmmaker whose been around for half a century though, he's also given us films that seem destined only to keep those involved working. Now over 80, any output we get from him is admirable and met with hopes of another 'Dog Day Afternoon' or 'The Verdict'. His latest, 'Before The Devil Knows You're Dead', is not exactly a classic, but certainly worthy of his legacy.
Here he returns to the heist-gone-wrong intensity of 'Dog Day...'. But this time, Andy (Philip Seymour Hoffman) and his younger brother Hank (Ethan Hawke) are trying to cover up their involvement in a botched robbery that left their accomplice and mother dead. Things escalate as their father (a heartbreaking Albert Finney) becomes obsessed with the case and the accomplice's family blackmails them for compensation.
Lumet's success here is the sense of absolute panic. As the film unfolds, both brothers get further and further away from any hope of going back to their lives; the turbulence of which drove them to the robbery in the first place. Andy is embezzling from his company, out of love with his wife, and shooting heroin to deal with it all. Hank is just a classic fuck up who's up to his neck in child support. Both the leads play stress so fully that you just want the situation to resolve itself however it may. They sweat, they shake, and behave so erratically that you can feel whatever is left of them slip away. Hoffman in particular takes the stress to a level of hopelessness. After Andy's wife finally leaves him, he casually wipes all items off of the tables and dressers, pours a bowl of rocks onto his coffee table, and finally curls up in bed; fully clothed and crippled with stress. Finney also rises to the occasion here. His grief-stricken widower gives us the sense that some drastic, desperate behavior is imminent.
Lumet's failures? Well, the film just...ends. After spending two hours engrossed in these people's lives, it just feels like we all ran out of time. The chopped-up timeline doesn't really succeed more than a linear one. Our feelings for Andy and Frank are too ambiguous. As a movie audience, we can't help wanting them to succeed. On the other hand; they're selfish, greedy, and care more about getting caught than they do about their involvement in their own mother's death. In the end, the film isn't really a shared journey with the characters. Instead, it feels darkly voyeuristic and quietly judgmental.