John Sharian | Through the Shattered Lens

Eh. Who cares?

I mean, seriously, do you understand what I mean? Sometimes, you just see a film that leaves you feeling so indifferent that it’s a struggle to even think of anything to say about it. That’s the way I feel about The Kitchen, which is neither bad enough to hatewatch nor good enough to recommend. It’s a mediocre film, one that would be totally forgettable if not for a few remarkably inept choices made by the director and the cast.

Melissa McCarthy is Kathy Brennan. Tiffany Haddish is Ruby O’Connell. Elisabeth Moss is Claire Walsh. The year is 1978 and all three of them live in the Hell’s Kitchen section of New York. All three of them are also married to men who are involved with the Irish Mob. When their husbands all get busted by the FBI and the new mob boss refuses to help the three women pay the bills, they team up and take over the neighborhood themselves. With the help of their number one enforcer, Gabriel O’Malley (Domhnall Gleeson), the women prove that they can be even more ruthless than their husbands and their competitors.

And really, this should have been fun. I’m all about girl power and I’m half-Irish. If I was going to join the mob, I would definitely join the Irish Mob. But, seriously, The Kitchen is not just a mess but it’s a dreadfully heavy-handed mess as well. I knew that this film was going to suck as soon as James Brown started singing, “This is a man’s world,” over the opening credits because it was just such an obvious choice to go with. To me, picking the song showed that the filmmakers weren’t really interested in giving too much thought to what the film was about. Instead, they just said, “Hey, that’s a really on-the-nose choice! Let’s go with it!” About an hour later, Clare and Gabriel were making love while Carry On My Wayward Son blasted on the soundtrack and I found myself wondering if this film’s soundtrack was put together by listening to a random classic rock station and just jotting down the names of the first ten songs that were played.

Adding to the disappointing atmosphere of the film is a talented cast, everyone of whom appears to be acting in a different movie from everyone else. Melissa McCarthy, for instance, gets all of the dramatic scenes but gives a comedic performance, one that feels like it’s been assembled from outtakes of the “awkward humor” bits of Ghostbusters. Tiffany Haddish is ruthless but it’s a very one-note type of ruthlessness. It gets boring after a while. Elisabeth Moss gives the best performance out of the three but her character often seems to be pushed to the side. Once Claire starts threatening to shoot people, you can tell that the film doesn’t know what to do with her.

You also have to feel bad for the supporting cast, all of whom deserve better than this film. Annabella Sciorra plays a Mafia wife who walks up to the women in the middle of the street and tells them that they’re just like Gloria Steinem and, when she shows up, you can’t help but think that Sciorra would have been a better pick for the role of Kathy than Melissa McCarthy. Then Common shows up as an FBI agent because, for some reason, Common always plays a member of law enforcement in films like this. Margo Matindale gets a few good scenes as an Irish mafia matriarch but her character disappears from the film far too quickly.

It’s a mess of a film. Kathy, Ruby, and Claire’s rise to power happens too abruptly to be credible and none of the subsequent betrayals make much sense. Appropriately, for a gangster film, it’s violent but the violence is so repetitive that it gets a little bit dull after a while. None of the characters are really memorable enough for their subsequent deaths to generate much of a reaction. An hour into the film, you just find yourself thinking, “Oh, hey, that dude’s dead now. Yay, I guess.” Much like Captain Marvel, The Kitchen often seems to only be interested in girl power as a way to disguise the fact that the script kind of sucks. I kept waiting for one of the male gangsters to shout, “The ancient prophecy said that I will be defeated by no man!,” just so Melissa McCarthy could respond, “Yes …. by no man!” It didn’t happen but maybe they’ll get around to it in the sequel.

In 2002, a man named Christian Longo was arrested in Mexico. Longo, who was on the FBI’s 10 Most Wanted List, was charged with murdering his wife and his three children. When he was arrested, he was using the name of Michael Finkel, a real-life travel writer for the New York Times. When asked why he had been using Finkel’s name, Longo explained that he admired Finkel as a writer.

At the same time that Christian Longo was getting arrested, Michael Finkel was in the process of watching his career fall apart, the result of his having fabricated part of a story. Fired from the New York Times, Finkel found himself unemployable. When he discovered that Longo had been using his name, Finkel arranged to meet with him. Not only was he curious as to why Longo wanted to be him but he also saw Longo as potentially being the story that could relaunch his career.

During their initial meeting, Longo told Finkel that he was a long-time admirer. Longo agreed to tell Finkel his side of the story in exchange for writing lessons and Finkel’s promise to keep the details of their conversations a secret until after the trial. Finkel agreed and soon, the two men became unlikely friends.

At first, Finkel believed that Longo was innocent. But then, on the first day of the trial, Longo was asked how he pled to four charges of murder. Longo entered two pleas of not guilty and two pleas of guilty and Finkel found himself forced to reexamine everything that he had previously believed about his new friend…

Amazingly enough, that’s a true story. It’s also the subject matter of a recently released film called True Story.

In True Story, Michael Finkel is played by Jonah Hill and Christian Longo is played by James Franco. Both Franco and Hill (who, despite having 3 Oscar nominations between them, remain oddly underrated actors) give the type of excellent performances that can elevate an entire film. Interestingly enough, they’re both playing dramatic versions of their own typically comedic personas. Hill plays up his trademark nerdy aggressiveness while Franco brings his own deliberately ambiguous persona to Christian Longo. Just as James Franco enjoys leaving people guessing about who he really is, Longo seems to get a perverse pleasure out of keeping Finkel guessing about whether or not he really killed his family. When Longo takes the stand in his own defense and gives his version of what happened on the night of the murders, he does it with a perverse gleam in his eye. Longo may be facing the death penalty but mostly, he’s just enjoying being in the spotlight.

Hill and Franco are famous for being off-screen friends and they bring a lot of their own real-life chemistry to their shared scenes. As played by Hill and Franco, Finkel and Longo develop a relationship that is nearly co-dependent. Longo wishes that he could be a writer like Finkel. Finkel wishes that he could be as personable and outwardly confident as Longo. When Longo writes Finkel an 80-page letter that’s full of crude drawings, Finkel responds by taping each page to the wall of his office until he’s literally encircled by Longo’s words, much as how someone like me may have once been tempted to tape pictures of James Franco to the wall of her college dorm room.

With Franco and Hill both giving great performances, it’s a bit disappointing that the rest of the film isn’t always as strong. Director Rupert Goold makes his feature film debut here and, at times, it feels as if he’s struggling to keep up with his actors. There’s a lot of slow motion scenes of people walking down hallways and getting out of cars. As well, too much of Finkel and Longo’s relationship is portrayed via montage. We see countless rapidly-edited montages of Longo and Finkel speaking but, instead of actually hearing what the two of them are talking about, we instead listen to Marco Beltrami’s score. Goold gets a lot of perfectly lit visuals but True Story is a film that could have used a rougher edge.

Even more unfortunate is that the film totally wastes Felicity Jones. Playing Finkel’s wife, she doesn’t get to do much beyond looking pensive and concerned. It’s a role that anyone could have played and it’s frustrating to watch because Felicity Jones is capable of doing so much more than just playing a worried wife. Towards the end of the film, there’s a great scene where Longo and Jill talk on the phone and, at that moment, Felicity Jones finally gets to show some strength and personality. James Franco, as well, seems to be relishing the chance to play up Longo’s manipulative side. (It’s interesting to listen to the perversely flirtatious tone that he takes with her as opposed to the passive aggressive flattery that he uses on Finkel.) The scene works wonders but then, the film makes the mistake of having Jill face Longo face-to-face and it falls flat precisely because Jill isn’t deep enough a character for us to feel any real satisfaction in watching her tell him off.

In the end, True Story is worth watching. James Franco and Jonah Hill both give great performances. If you’re a true crime fan like I am, you’ll find a lot of True Story to be intriguing. Ultimately, if True Story is frustrating, it’s because it’s a good film that should have been great.