One of Philip Seymour Hoffman’s final films to grace our cinemas following his tragic death in February sees Hoffman play struggling husband Mickey Scarpato; a gambler and alcoholic fighting to fund his step-son’s funeral following the drug addled twenty-something’s suspicious death on a construction site.
Actor and Mad Men director John Slattery’s first feature is a gritty, dry humoured portrayal of working class life that harvests an edgy elegance similar to Scorsese at his earliest and dirtiest. Presenting the setting (the lowly God’s Pocket of the title) as a key component to the story, it often feels like the unspoken protagonist, while the shabby inhabitants refer to the Pocket as the catalyst for the dramas that occur in their lives.
Hoffman is outstanding, displaying great range as a brawny Shmoe reacting to his daily setbacks with a snarling indifference. A fantastic supporting cast also deliver strong performances as the downtrodden locals; Christina Hendricks as Mickey’s grieving wife Jeanie, Richard Jenkins as a sozzled reporter, Eddie Marsan as the testy funeral director Smilin’ Jack Moran and John Turturro as a friendly florist, best friend to Mickey.
The characters’ dispassion and general demeanours occasionally detract from the story’s gusto due to the mutual lack of concern when confronted with conflict. It’s hard to engage with the drama when the characters give the impression that they’re not too bothered. Despite threats from gangsters, casually committing murders or grieving the death of their only child, their reactions are all slightly underplayed. But this is one of the characters’ only shared traits and could be interpreted as a result of a troubled existence, being able to process problems more astutely due to their experience of dealing with them so frequently in the past.
God’s Pocket is still a strong drama enriched by bittersweet pathos and a fitting near final film for Phillip Seymour Hoffman (we are still awaiting A Most Wanted Man and the Hunger Games: Mockingjay sequels). Its brooding and often brilliant urban drama is fired by dark humour. John Slattery evokes a gritty nonchalance via the stink of Scorsese and the poetic eloquence of Paul Auster and Charles Bukowski, complimented by complex characters bought to life by the tremendous supporting cast.
Daniel has awarded God’s Pocket four Torches of Truth
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