“If you’re seeing me, you’re having the worst day of your life.”
The H-Bomb: Los Angeles denizen Louis Blum (Jake Gyllenhaal) is a peculiar young man who spends his sleepless nights roaming the city, looking for work when he isn’t selling stolen scrap. One fateful evening, Louis happens upon the bloody aftermath of a car crash that is being filmed by cameraman, Joe Loder (Bill Paxton). A veteran “stringer” who’s been working the streets for fourteen years, Joe explains to Louis that local TV stations will pay a pretty penny for any bloody footage: auto accidents, shootings, whatever. As that old saying goes, “If it bleeds, it leads.”
Louis, being the enterprising fellow that he is, purchases a camcorder and a police scanner, and by the very next evening, is out looking for bloody events to videotape. At first he’s a bit clumsy, and gets chased away from the first few police scenes, but when he gets some nice, juicy footage of a nasty carjacking, Louis hocks the video to a late night news show, who are at first shocked at its graphic detail, then decide they must air it.
The news director at the station, Nina Romina (Rene Russo), makes a deal with Louis that gives her first look at any footage he might have to sell in the future. She tells him that she’s specifically interested in urban crime creeping into suburbia, and the bloodier, the better. So Louis heads out the next night, and the night after that, discovering that he has a real knack for this… that he may have just found his calling. Next thing we know, he’s upgrading his equipment and hiring a hapless assistant (Riz Ahmed).
Through all of this, we start to realize some disturbing things about Louis, that whenever he sees a bullet ravaged body, or a grisly wreck, he doesn’t see people, he only sees a story, and how it can benefit him and his “career goals.” Soon, Louis finds himself in a position in which he blurs the line between those who report the news, and those who make it.
It’s Oscar season again, and like every year, all the cinephiles of the world are not only pontificating on who all the winners and losers will be, but also bemoaning all the award worthy pictures the Academy has snubbed. This year, one film that keeps coming up in these diatribes is writer/director Dan Gilroy’s debut feature, Nightcrawler. Yes, it’s scored a nod for its original screenplay, but no nomination for Gyllenhaal’s utterly chilling performance? Or for Best Picture, for that matter?
Having now seen Nightcrawler, I can emphatically state that the Academy has indeed dropped the ball (yet again), as this pitch black, Network-meets-American Psycho mind-fuck is one of the best films of 2014, and I say that as someone who believes 2014 was an abnormally stellar year for movies. A disturbing, satirical examination of media news gathering, there are many in the industry who have attacked the film for being inaccurate and over-the-top. Well, it certainly is over-the-top, as satire often is, however, it is perhaps more accurate than people would like to admit, particularly in its depiction of the detachment one must have in order to do this kind of work.
The characters, particularly Louis and Nina, absolutely do cross ethical and moral lines that no principled person in the business would ever cross, but the casual manner in which they report on death and other human tragedies is eerily spot on. The neo-noirish nighttime cinematography by Robert Elswit, reminiscent of a Michael Mann flick, adds to the uncaring coldness that defines Louis and the world he inhabits. You get maimed or murdered, you become the lead story, with your gory remains on display to drive up ratings. That seems to be the reality every time I turn on the TV, regardless of how emphatically industry insiders try to deny it. Exaggerated? Absolutely. Fallacious? Erm… not so fast.
The driving force behind Nightcrawler is undeniably Gyllenhaal’s thoroughly fucked up performance. His portrayal of this ambitious, sociopathic sleaze ball is strong enough to rival the work of De Niro or Pacino in their prime. With his gaunt face and bulging eyes, he looks like a rodent in human form, which given Louis’ true nature, is perfectly appropriate. At first, he comes off as comical. We know from the outset that he’s an amoral snake, even violent at times. Still, we’re initially amused by him and his clumsy attempts at wheeling and dealing.
It’s only when we get to know Louis, as he gets deeper and deeper into his role of “professional news gatherer,” that we see just how manipulative and inhuman he is. He will use a business dinner to malevolently coerce a female colleague into sleeping with him. He will coldly film a gunshot victim as they draw their dying breaths. He will rearrange the bodies at the scene of an accident in order to get a better shot composition. This is a guy who will literally stop at nothing to get what he wants, and Gyllenhaal’s flawlessly frightening turn made my fucking skin crawl.
Holding her own opposite him is Russo (aka Mrs. Dan Gilroy), who gets her meatiest role in ages as the cutthroat news director who will do almost anything for ratings. Sharing Louis’ callous disregard for people, she’s at first taken with the intense footage he sells, and simply declines to ask how he got it. When she finally realizes just how nuts he actually is, it’s too late, she’s already made her bed with him, now she has to lay in it. Embodying Nina’s ruthless demeanor to a T, Russo delivers what is possibly her best performance ever (though it has been a while since I’ve seen Lethal Weapon 4).
I’m hesitant to award Nightcrawler five-out-of-five stars, as I feel that rating should be used very sparingly, and I have already awarded it to more films over the course of 2014 than I have any previous year. However, as stated, 2014 was one hell of a year for movies, and mulling Nightcrawler over in my head, I cannot think of a damn thing wrong with it. A brilliant, thought provoking piece of work that is as audaciously funny as it is deeply unsettling, it is, by every measure, perfect.
The unflinchingly graphic gore may be too strong for the squeamish, and the outlandish climax may have some calling bullshit, as it does more or less toss any sense of believability right out the fucking window. By that point, though, I was so ensnared by this ferociously entertaining thriller, that I truly did not care in the slightest.
