A Most Violent Year marks the third feature from writer/director J. C. Chandor, and stars Oscar Isaac and Jessica Chastain.
The film tells the story of Abel Morales (Oscar Isaac), an immigrant who owns a major heating oil company in New York City. This is 1981, an historically… well, violent year in New York’s history, when everything seemed to be coming apart at the seams. The crime wave hasn’t left Abel unscathed, as his trucks, each containing about six thousand dollars worth of fuel, are being systematically hijacked by an unknown party, drained of oil, and left for the police to find. One of the drivers, Julian (Elyes Gabel), is especially brutalized in one of these robberies. Julian, a supporting character who has a big purpose (both plot-wise and thematically), is also an immigrant, although one whose fortunes have not been as grand as Abel’s.
These hijackings have proven to be a pain for Abel. For one, the threat to his business is, essentially, a threat to his self-worth, the value he places on himself, as his company is an externalization of sorts of himself; it is ambition and hard work personified. There’s also the matter of Abel’s wife, Anna (Jessica Chastain), who becomes less and less convinced that he has the means to protect his livelihood and his family.
To further complicate things, the robberies are spooking Abel’s drivers, causing an unwelcome intervention from the head of the Teamsters Union, who proposes solving the problem with handguns for every driver. There’s also a case coming down against the company, with some serious accusations of shady dealings that Abel vehemently denies.
All of these unfortunate circumstances threaten to sink a deal he has to purchase an oil facility on the river, which could serve to radically expand the business. So in the meantime, Abel Morales must keep everything together and figure out who it is that’s behind these hijackings. While that may sound convoluted, it’s not. J. C. Chandor keeps the plot clear and character-driven, with a refreshingly slow pace that gives his actors the chance to inhabit their roles with rich texture and detail.
I recognize that A Most Violent Year is a very good film. It may very well be a great film, and in all likelihood probably is. In the immediate moments after the screening, I had very positive feelings towards the movie — it is well written, well acted, and well shot, and I cared about the characters and was invested in their journey. Now, though, as I’m writing, I find that most of that enthusiasm has dissipated. Why? I don’t know, but it has. A Most Violent Year, while a good film, has failed to stick its landing on an emotional level with me in the way so many other good films have this year.
Maybe that’s it. Maybe this year has just been too good for movies (I’d wager it’s the best since 2007). There has been one stellar release after another, and, although A Most Violent Year is one of those released, there’s just not enough room for something that just passes by, a blip on the radar. And that’s what the film feels like: a moment.
Now that it’s all said and done, I’ve come to realize that I just wasn’t very affected by it. It’s an unfortunate ambivalence I have towards the film, as, again, I think it is good, and I have respect for it and Chandor’s work, but on the other hand I don’t know how it’s going to stand out from the crowd in one year or two years, or even this Oscar season when we have the cause to consider a year in review. Still, it’s a well-crafted piece of filmmaking with an engaging story, handsome cinematography, and award-worthy performances from the entire cast, and for those reasons it’s worth seeing.
The film is now playing.
-Stephen Jones