Okay, from the Ridiculous to the Sublime.
Mamet is one of those guys like Hitchens, O’Rourke, and once in a great while George F. Will who is sufficiently smart that you have to pay attention even when you think they’re way off base on a thing or two.
Mamet has achieved a body of work that is too diverse and serious to write off as a fluke or a fad. The guy has conscious intent in what he does and he gets enough right that the bits that crash and burn (like, say, the cop-out ending to “Oleanna”) get balanced favorably against his integrity and courage in bringing forth Art despite the crushing downward pressure of Commerce.
And just to have it said, his recent conversion from “Brain-Dead Liberal” to merely brain-dead drives me nuts, as I hope all the appreciative cooing from the very right-wing jerks who traditionally attempt to have his plays banned as “Obscene” has done to him.
So on to “Redbelt.”
It ain’t perfect, but it should at least get a couple of Oscar nominations including Best Original Screenplay for Mamet and, by God, the first of many Best Actor nominations/wins for Chiwetel Ejiofor.
In a nutshell, Ejiofor plays a jiu-jitsu instructor trying to live a principled life who gets dragged into a bunch of other peoples’ problems. This is not “Rocky” or “The Karate Kid” or “Enter the Dragon.”
This is each of us at our best struggling with each of us as we are everyday in Real Life. Like Ejiofor’s character, it is noble, thoughtful, and willfully naive in crucial places.
More than a few plot points are forced to the point where I wanted to groan “Oh, come on…”, but each of them is within the realm of possibility and (if we think about it) suggestive of stories not told. How many of those do we choose not to pursue each day?
I came away from this 99 minute drama satisfied and thinking it over even as I knew certain things felt off to me. Mamet is neither a naturalist nor a strict realist. He is, I think, a creature of Theatre and I’m calling his style “Ritualized Realism” from now on.
His characters speak precisely, but not naturally. They lack the blurred, soft-focus edges necessary to pass in human society. Each of them is a dancer in Mamet’s regimented ballet. The actors never quite seem mortal, tasked as they are with relentlessly demonstrating whatever foible Mamet assigns them.
Only Ejiofor’s character seems to completely work in this context precisely because his consistent nobility is so clearly removed from the “humanity” we are accustomed to dealing with day to day.
Put another way, the rest of the characters only seem natural when they’re lying through their teeth or otherwise screwing someone.
Once more, “Redbelt” ain’t perfect but it’s awfully good. It’s for grown-ups and you should go see it.
PS – If you’re in LA and hate crowds like I do, go see a matinee screening at the Mann’s Beverly Center.
The mall in “Dawn of the Dead” had more living people in it. And better parking.
