David Gordon Green's "Joe" - Cage is the man.

Undertow, All the Real Girls, and now Joe . . . David Gordon Green again proves himself to be among the greatest indie film directors/producers in the business.

In Joe, Green gives Nicolas Cage one of the strongest roles of his career. In fact, I can't think of a better performance from this actor than what he brings to the title character of this remarkable film.


The greatest directors all have a sense of personal style that is immediately identifiable and, as unlikely as it seems, I went into Joe not knowing a thing about it (other than the brief 2 sentence synopsis) but immediately sensed this was the work of DGG.

An ex-con with a propensity towards violence frequently kept at the simmering point (barely), Joe is, nonetheless, a solid man, a good hearted fellow with a moral conscience that at time seems to torture him and barely keeps him from returning to prison.


Leading and managing a group of black, aging forest day workers,he takes in 15 year old, badly abused Gary as a hand. Up until know the only hand this kid has known has been that of Wade, his raging alcoholic of a father whose abuse on his family is the stuff of nightmares.

Unlike most mentor flicks, Joe reveals himself to Gary, warts and all, but even so, Joe is the halcyon lake to Wade's cesspool.

As ever, Green plumbs the depths of each of his characters and they unfold before our eyes, exposing a humanity borne both of darkness and light. Even Wade, despite his despicability, becomes more of a tragic figure, more pitiable than loathsome (though loathsome is not out of the question).



In addition to the central redemption story, Joe shows the title character's interactions among his poor, rural Texas community with Green skimping neither on the brutality nor the horrors of this life bringing an unflinching realism that comes off in near documentary style.

Throughout the darkness Joe is shot through with moments of almost comedic lightness that lend a believable truth to the film, something missing from many bigger budgeted Hollywood movies. As an example and, without revealing too much, a potentially dangerous scene segues into a break dancing lesson from the most unlikely of characters, a moment of cinematic magic that didn't cost a million dollars.


As with most of this director's films, the cast could not be bettered. In addition to Cage's already lauded turn as Joe, Tye Sheridan's performance as Gary is a thing of beauty, capturing one who has seen too much too soon yet still hopes to retain a thread of the innocence every kid deserves. It's masterful work from a gifted young actor.

As Wade, Green cast a local homeless man, Gary Poulter, who pulls in whatever it was in his life that took him there . . . and gives it back to us tenfold. It is a terrifying, soul searing and tortured performance. (Note: Mr. Poulter died two months after filming and is one of two people Joe is dedicated to).


Ronnie Gene Blevins, Adriene Mishler, Elbert Hill, A.J. Wilson McPhaul and the rest of the cast all contribute mightily to the telling of this tale, written by Gary Hawkins based upon Larry Brown's novel of the same name.

Cinematography and soundtrack are wed exquisitely, with at least one incredible sequence featuring noise (feedback, electronics, etc.) in place of music to chilling effect. While Joe is not a film for the faint of heart, those willing enter to its world on its own terms are in for a richly rewarding film experience with some powerful performances.

Red Dirt - Wonderful Indie

Red Dirt is not quite like any film -independent or otherwise - to have come out in some time.

While some critics expressed disappointment it wasn't the great southern gothic romance -straight or gay - it was rumored to be, others criticized it seemingly unable to connect with its characters. Over the years since its release, however, it has slowly become something of a cult film and seems to be finding its own niche.

Though a low budget independent, director Tag Purvis succeeded in creating a visually stunning film, his cinematography never less than breathtaking; his sense and use of color vivid and true. In all honesty, I did not expect to enjoy Red Dirt so was surprised at film's end to find myself in tears, wholly drawn to its characters and watching each in their self-imposed exiles endlessly and futilely attempting to connect to each other, their loneliness universal. While the premise is easily recognizable . . . perhaps, predictable, Purvis takes a standard plot and gives it a spin all his own bringing fresh, inviting characters on a backdrop never less than breathtaking. He captures almost perfectly summer in a tiny town deep in the American South. With deadly silences hauntingly punctuated by birds, wolves, crickets, locust, and endless rain, the film's soundscape is both haunting yet tranquil. Deceptively so.

The premise is rather simple: Griffith (Dan Montgomery, Jr.) an orphaned young man living with and caring for his mentally unstable Aunt Summer (an Academy Award worthy performance from Karen Black) is having an affair with his cousin, Emily (Aleksa Palladino). Both are loners and cling to the other out of desperation as much as youthful passion. Enter Lee, a drifter (brilliantly played by Walton Goggins, more recently of The Shield fame) and an unusual love triangle ensues which will alter everyone’s lives.

An essential element of any good southern tale is the employment of crazy women and the women in Purvis’s tale exhibit varying signs of madness as each attempts to hold on to her deeply hidden, long held secrets. Purvis's women exhibit a wondrously wide - as well as wild - range of emotion bouncing from minor instability and madness to profound wisdom and acceptance. One of the most touching developments of the film is the ever growing bond between Emily and Aunt Summer.

As Summer, Karen Black' pours herself into creating an emotionally unstable Southern woman of epic proportions. A lifetime of guilt torments Summer, her futile attempts to hide old secrets which have driven her quite mad. We watch as that pent up madness escapes through increasingly dramatic, loony-tune sequences as she escapes into a world where comfort appears to come only through baths, endlessly listening to her mournful opera recordings, bed . . . and sleep.

Each scene breathes with the magic of the almost ephemeral and gauzy qualities of a dream. One scene in particular is among the most arrestingly beautiful moments of honesty I have seen captured on film. The gay repression angle of the story works perfectly here with both men quiet, almost unaware as to what is developing between them. Where Lee sees where things are headed, Griffith is so naïve and stunted as to believe what is going on between them is devoid of any sexual tension or romantic leanings: it’s purely friendship. This naivite makes Griffith’s penultimate unhinging and dangerous rage all the more believable and the final scene all the more moving.

While some gay audiences complained about the lack of romantic ending, I could not possibly imagine a more literally "romantic" finale. Rage, revelation and confusion subside into sadness, forgiveness, self-awareness and acceptance - all as the sun streams down on a glorious southern evening.

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