Brooklyn Cliches Simmer in Ham Juice in White Irish Drinkers

Shouldering a title that’s redundant twice over, John Gray’s Noo Yawker indie is a stubborn throwback to the Sundance-fueled, ethnic-neighborhood movie of the early ’90s, when every film-school grad with a fresh head full of Mean Streets decided he would be the next Scorsese. Here it’s “Brooklyn, 1975,” and one nice, artsy Leary brother (Nick Thurston) has to deal with the other, an I’ll-smack-ya-fag petty crook (Geoffrey Wigdor), while both suffer their roaring Irish drunk dad (Avatar thundergod Stephen Lang). So, courtesy of Good Will Hunting, the misfit art kid struggles with maybe leaving his bloody-knuckle roots behind for higher education, a saucy neighborhood girl endures his advances, and his employer (Peter Riegert) connives to have the Rolling Stones (“Who the fuck is Ron Wood?”) play at his theater for one night. Even though Gray is no raw-boned rookie—he has made TV movies for decades, plus, back in the day, a single Steven Seagal floater—his movie is rather inexcusably obvious, going for “troot,” but recycling dese-dose-dem clichés already pressed into plastic lumber 25 years ago. Lang’s presence, of course, adds a toxic gallon of ham juice to the pot, although in saying so, I’m afraid he’ll come and hit me.

 
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2 comments
david
david

You saying you're afraid Lang will hit you proves his role in this movie had an effect on you. Contradiction much?

Cait
Cait

This movie is incredibly amazing. I recommend you actually WATCH the movie before you criticize it, Michael.

 

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