GOD’S POCKET tells the darkly comedic tale of how a small neighbourhood is rocked by the suspicious death of a young man. Philip Seymour Hoffman plays Mickey, the boy’s stepfather who, after his wife refuses to believe the official story, must investigate what really happened whilst also trying to bury the body and pay off a serious debt.
Life is hard and unchanging in God’s Pocket; it’s the sort of community where everyone knows everyone else’s dirty little secrets, which they discuss loudly down at the local bar. It’s a small community and one in which everybody may steal from each other as kids – but the only true crime is not being from around there. Near the film’s beginning, we are warned that anyone who isn’t born and bred in the Pocket will meet prejudice and worse if they oppose the community, and yet very quickly the idea is forgotten about until the end, where it reappears almost as an afterthought. Director John Slattery has a lot of ideas for what he wants GOD’S POCKET to be, and unfortunately he seems to have tried to incorporate all of them. Tonally it is severely inconsistent, as it veers between humour that occasionally verges on slapstick, and as bleak a portrait of the working man’s life as we have seen in years. It’s a combination that could have worked if it were in the hands of, say, the Coen brothers – but here the farce is too cheap, and the bleakness stands in too severe a contrast.
Really, it’s an issue of bravery. If the intention is to make a dark portrait of petty crime and the struggle to get by then go for it full throttle and just put in a few jokes here and there in order to alleviate some of the depressive atmosphere. If you want mainly comedy then this needed better and much more regular jokes. However if it is supposed to be a dark comedy then we need to be laughing at our characters in their lowest moments whilst also feeling pathos, not giggling at occasional slapstick asides. That’s not to suggest that there aren’t moments of humour that work very well. Several times the film managed to place some lovely jokes that were an extremely welcome relief from the dark atmosphere. But unfortunately, they too often fell flat.
These last few films from Hoffman bear a heavy weight around their necks.
Thankfully the acting is one of the highlights of the picture. There is a talented cast here with a particularly noteworthy turn from Christina Hendricks as the grieving mother. We also have Richard Jenkins as a celebrity columnist, John Turturro as Mickey’s friend and Eddie Marsan as the local funeral director. But these are all eclipsed by a very understated and quiet performance from Hoffman. His work is very precise, and each time he rises above the material, it certainly makes the film’s limitations a little more pronounced and frustrating.
Cinematographer Lance Acord paints the community with a colour palette that’s as bleak and gloomy as the lives it depicts. The few bursts of life and colour in the film stand in such contrast to the graininess of the stock that it goes beyond aesthetic, and comments on character motivation and mood. What is a little more hit and miss, however, is the film’s editing. Scene changes often feel a little jarring and, although some cutaways make some worthwhile observations, there are several missed opportunities where a tenuous parallel is drawn between two characters through the scene changes.
These last few films from Hoffman bear a heavy weight around their necks. This should have been a small, quiet film which would have suited it far better than the level of scrutiny and attention it is now receiving as his penultimate performance. Ideally we all want to see Hoffman going out in a blaze of glory with a film and performance that is fitting for his career, but for that we shall have to look hopefully to A MOST WANTED MAN.
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