REVIEW
The King – The Devil Made Me Do It . . .

In a world where information is everywhere, at your fingertips, just a button click away, it is rare to go into a movie without a preconceived notion of what you will be seeing.  Reviews, on-line summaries, the description on the back of the DVD - like it or not, most of the time you have an idea of what to expect of a film.  I went into The King with expectations, with preconceived notions – and was utterly blown out of the water.  I’m pretty sure that nobody, and I mean nobody, will be able to properly describe this unnerving and engrossing flick.  The King is really beyond description.

Here’s my best attempt.

Directed by James Marsh and written by Milo Addica, The King is slow - beyond molasses slow.  Taking its time in the lazy, glowing landscapes of Corpus Christi, Texas where the colors are vivid and the light bright, the story revolves around a recently discharged naval officer named Elvis (Gael Garcia Bernal).  Hints of illegitimacy arise when he trails Pastor David Sandow (William Hurt) and his “perfect” family home from church.  Spotting him in the rearview mirror of his enormous truck, Sandow confronts Elvis, who merely smiles beguilingly and says, “My mother told me about you.  Her name was Yolanda.  She told me your name.”

Without explanation (as much is in this dialogue-sparse script), Sandow seeks to keep his past quiet, refuses to associate with Elvis and commands his family to do the same.  A connection, however, has already been made – Stumbling into the church nursery before tailing them home, Elvis has already discovered the naïve and youthful 16 year old Malerie Sandow (Pell James).  Securing a job, moving into a motel and purchasing a car, Elvis settles into Corpus Christi and, whether with malicious intent towards Sandow or out a real sense of love for Malerie, begins a taboo relationship with his half-sister.

Not much more can be said without giving away key plot twists and turns.  With one scene, this movie catapults into a different stratosphere, a different realm and you are left clinging to what you’ve learned, wondering what kind of journey you’re going to be going on. From there, the film swirls ever deeper into a vortex of incest, anger, betrayal, sin and murder.

William Hurt is dead on as Pastor Sandow, the country hick who has a fresh start in Christ.  His scenes in the church are creepy, arresting, thought-provoking.  Most people who go to church believe in the validity and truth of what they are doing, in what they are saying, singing and professing.  Hurt manages to give Sandow an air of pious holiness while at the same time making faith look like a depthless, empty and baffling façade.

Gael Garcia Bernal is flawless, chameleon-like, insanely good in the role of Elvis.  He doesn’t say much but with a mesmerizing face, smoldering sexuality and a quietly ferocious intensity, you are content to just look at him and attempt to figure out his thoughts.  What does it take for a person to kill without qualm, with such ease and clear-headed assurance? You just want to know and but he forever leaves us guessing, imagining and conspiring.

Paul Dano is nearly unrecognizable as the bible-thumping Pastor’s son, Paul. He does an excellent job – at school before the board of teachers and in scenes with his father - at being quietly confrontational. He only breaks his stony, silent rebellion in his interactions with Malerie.  It’s clear he doesn’t find it difficult to override his sister and it is in these moments that we can see that Paul is just looking for an outlet, for a venue to release all his aggressions and frustrations.

Pell James’ portrayal of Malerie Sandow is breath-taking.  At first, when expectations of action and adventure are high, when you are still trying to figure out exactly what kind of movie you have gotten yourself into, the nuances of her performance can be overlooked.  But as the film progresses, each expression, each grin, each bat of her eyelash is dripping with meaning.  She is an actress who does not have to be busy in front of the camera.  She inhabits her character, lives in her, makes every movement (even breathing) reflective of Malerie’s struggle.  Her journey is the most tumultuous, the most troubled and when the actions of Elvis baffle and unnerve, she becomes our venue in to the film.

There is no happy ending to this film – no way to organize lives and actions in such a way that everything turns out well.  Instead we are left with questions of good versus evil, of right and wrong, of whether it is actually possible for one to learn from their actions and change.  These questions don’t mold themselves into a moral lesson. There is no overarching message here.  No pat answers. 

We are simply left with questions birthed by the actions of a handful of deftly drawn and finely acted characters.  We are left with characters that are living in the moment, acting and reacting, furthering the descent into chaos by attempting to do what they deem as right given their current circumstances. We are left to follow this story, drawn like a moth to flame, wonder just where living for each moment will cause us to end up.