Joe (Joaquin Phoenix) deserves redemption, but he just can't find it.
Psychologically kidnapped by his time serving in the special forces, Joe isn't afraid of death, but there's more to it than that. He has a love/hate relationship with his fate, toying with the idea of morality while trapped in the chaotic trials and tribulations of post-traumatic stress disorder. The only thing that ties him to the humility of the outside world is his relationship with his declining mother (Judith Roberts). Outside of that, it's Joe and the darkness in his soul waging war every single day.
The predicament does allow him to provide a rare service: find and retrieve lost girls while punishing the perpetrators who assault them. Joe's weapon of choice is a hammer, which he wields with relentless anger, as if he's fighting something that can't be solved by finding a lost soul and returning them unharmed. No matter how many lives he saves, Joe is haunted by hallucinations of the ones he couldn't protect.
When his handler (John Doman) gives him a job involving a Senator's (Alex Manette) daughter (Ekaterina Samsonov) that spirals out of control, Joe has to get out his hammer one last time while also keeping his inner demons in order. Saving the girl is one thing, but can Joe save himself?
Welcome to You Were Never Really Here, a different blend of cinematic delight that packs a hearty punch.
Writer/Director Lynne Ramsay paints a beautifully pulp canvas for Joe to operate in. I am fascinated by the manner with which a director can make the state of New York look sexy all over again, as if we are celebrating these mean streets for the first time. You don't get the obvious skyline right away, instead living with Joe as he stalks the streets and alleys on the job, seeking a unique form of justice.
At one point, a man tells Joe that his handler called him brutal, and Joe tells him the job can be. You need an actor who can live in that description. Luckily, Phoenix makes it all work. There are only a handful of actors who can convey this much darkness without a ton of dialogue while doing brutal things. Joe walks like he's literally carrying all the guilt on his shoulders, and Phoenix's bearded and burly look suits the role perfectly. It’s a revelatory, tour de force performance that marches to its own beat. You have to love and be afraid of Joe at the same time, and Phoenix makes that possible.
Ramsay layers the sinister tone of Jonathan Ames' book (from which the screenplay is adapted from) with redemption mixtapes, and adds a refreshing storytelling touch that keeps you off guard for the majority of the flick. We don't get to see a lot of Joe's work, but when we do it, it's stunning. There's a lot of blood in dark dramatic thrillers, but it usually doesn't arrive with this much honesty. The plot takes a turn at the 45-minute mark, but Ramsay's unusually deft touch makes the switch in tone seamless.
I personally believe that Ramsay left the Jane's Got a Gun project due to the fact that the studio wanted to add too much formula and cliché-ridden plot points to her film. She's a filmmaker who doesn't have to work, just when it suits her soul to create. That lends her a bold freedom to shoot a film like You Were Never Really Here in just eight weeks and make it this introspective.
Let's talk about Jonny Greenwood's score. The Radiohead guitarist (who gave Phantom Thread an Oscar nominated touch) lends the dark film a ray of light without letting the dread get too far away in the process. Composers are like cinematic meteorologists, warning the viewer of what may come via subtle hints without being able to give you the whole picture. There's a particular moment involving two characters, a lake, and a pile of rocks that wouldn't hit a high level without Greenwood's music.
You Were Never Really Here is about lost souls being found in unconventional ways. It's not for everybody. There's uncomfortable imagery and few redeemable characters-and the ones who aren't evil manage to do very bad things in their own right. Joe sees a path out of hell in rescuing Nina, but it's not going to be easy.
Look, Ramsay could have made a commercially viable film that major studios would have scooped up and churned out like a package of deli meat to a grocery shopper. Thankfully, her and Phoenix took a rough draft of the script and cut out the familiar parts to make it more visceral and original. The result is a cinematic experience that is equal parts challenging and satisfying, leaving you chewing on the themes and morals long after the credits roll.
Does Joe get the barrel or salvation? I urge you to go find out this weekend.
