If you’re a diehard fan of harsh climate indie dramas driven by metered doses of [wo]man vs. [wo]man, [wo]man vs. nature and [wo]man vs. society all snowballed up into a storm… or more clearly, if you thought Frozen River, Wind River, or Winter’s Bone gave you chills, then Brian Kirk has perfectly titled his new piece so you can’t miss it: Dead of Winter.
Performance-wise, Emma Thompson’s “Barb” doesn’t totally snag nor botch a heavy Midwestern accent, but even if she studied Fargo too closely or cloned the drawl of her American contemporaries, it’s fine because we love her anyway. I love Judy Greer in general, so it hurts me to see her play the villain… not because she doesn’t have it in her to be subversive, but because the role wasn’t fleshed out for her as deep as it should have been.
I always worry about female-led actioners when they’re relying on male directors and screenwriters to make them shine, but thankfully, this passes the Bechdel test by so much distance that it almost ends up being the opposite, where it’s the men who are seen but rarely heard. I am grateful that they didn’t sexualize the story or any of the lead actresses for the sake of optics, and I am ecstatic that everyone gets to act their age – young and old. I’m also glad that even when Thompson’s character loses her footing, she doesn’t have to step aside for the sake of the knights in shining hunting vests who finally decide to show up. Realistically, they don’t dial down the patronizing gaslighting once those men do start talking – but not listening – and when they don’t believe women, they rightfully suffer from it.
So the above are all chill feminist brownie points… but… well.. there’s one little thing, which might not be worth mentioning in light of the positives, but, yeah, here I go anyway with my point:
Why can’t they allow for a stoic hero here? Why aren’t heroes like this believable outside of John Wick or The Man With No Name? You know how we’re always asking men, “what if it were your daughter, your mother, your sister?”, as if someone else’s basic humanity alone wouldn’t qualify them for a rescue? They don’t have to see that person in need as someone they’d actually care about in their own life, do they? It’s like that, then? That’s where we’re at across the board?
I feel as if they used this same rationale, but gender-flipped, to explain the unexpected bravery with Barb. A disjointed series of unnecessary flashbacks leads to the assumptions that now that she is a widow, she has nothing else to live for, and she might not go on without him anyway; there are unduly long scenes and tackily added afterthought plot points regarding her diamond ring, the loss of which is prioritized over far more dire situations. In the middle of multiple crises, she brings us out of it as she reminisces fondly over the moments with her late beloved husband. Then later, more unneeded flashbacks jarringly imply that this poor girl in trouble could be like the unborn child she never had… and this, with her maternal instinct surfacing, is why she must save her!
These arguments of the cowardly to understand the courageous don’t work with real heroes or truly decent people. Such amazing souls act because they can, because they should and because they must. True heroes don’t need to be related to victims to step up and be empathetic. The best cinematic lone wolves in history have been embodied well and largely by men… couldn’t you let her fill those big boots just this once? (Of course, I must say it’s preferable that instead of having Barb be an ex-military hermit or with a secret special set of skills à la Neeson, she’s figuring out her next move like she’s an oft-erring everyman in a Paul Greengrass actioner – I do like that. Also cleverly on display is the art of distraction when you’re out-armed, and the rise of brains over brawn.)
That being said, I am keenly aware that Thompson, as executive producer, needed those flashbacks to give her daughter Gaia Wise some screentime. There were enough props and not-so-subtle exposition (sometimes by talking to herself, sadly) that we didn’t need the flashbacks to figure out she was one of the good ones. This mother-daughter duo would have a better display elsewhere with a proper intergenerational drama or biopic if they’re to be equally showcased in the same film.
Now… you know who could have used a backstory – albeit not by lazy flashbacks – and it would have been balls-out-the-window brilliant? Judy Greer’s heartless bitch should have started off with a sweetheart scene interacting with her teenage mark within her workplace; the subversive contrast of carer to predator would have given so much depth to Greer’s villain and would have saved her from clumsily dishing out so much exposition, caught dragging in the first few scenes. One harmless little introduction at the hospital would have done wonders for drawing us in, then flipping it on a dime soon after so that we’re up to speed and in the front seat for the rest of the ride. A dynamite first act would have ensured no stragglers or that no one got lost along the way… because truly, the second and third acts are worth sticking it out.
Vertical releases Dead of Winter in theaters on September 26th.
