SVS: “Get Low”

“I guess for every one like me, there’s one like you, son. I about forgot that.”

I recently had the opportunity to gather with a few cinepheliac friends for a re-watch of one of my favorite films from 2009: the Aaron Schneider-helmed, Robert Duvall-showcasing Get Low, which is currently streaming on both NETFLIX INSTANT and YOUTUBE($). And is also available from AMAZON INSTANT VIDEO($$$), though purchasing is the only option there. (Hence the multiple dollar signs.)

Robert Duvall stars as irascible backwoods loner Felix Bush, who plans his funeral while he’s still around to attend — and enjoy — the proceedings.

The film looks and sounds fantastic. And the cast is as wonderful as you’d expect. Sissy Spacek and Duvall have some really charming moments together (and some really painful ones), Bill Murray is obviously enjoying himself, Bill Cobbs shines in the small-but-pivotal role of Rev. Charlie Jackson, and relatively-unknown Lucas Black shows himself more than capable of going toe-to-toe with his famous counterparts. Unsurprisingly, Murray and Spacek bore the brunt of the marketing thrust, but it is Black who covers himself with glory. Any glory not reserved for Duvall, that is.

Despite the overall excellence of the film’s cast (and the excellence of much/all of its production values), it is Duvall’s closing monologue that gets me every time. Five minutes of little more than his face as he finally tells his story — a story that is (by that time) both as predictable and as painful as we’d thought it would be. But it is a story (and scene) that he elevates far, far beyond its seeming predictability, raised up by the astonishing subtlety and power of his performance. Amazing stuff.

BRIEF PAUSE FOR SHAMELESS SELF-PROMOTION: As I was working through my recent Blog Cleaning exercise, I happened across some thoughts on the film that I put to “paper” back in 2011. I’m actually pretty pleased with them, even now. Or at least they still reflect my thinking, by and large. I suppose that’s not quite the same thing as being pleased. (Yes, I realize this is just recycling old material. Yes, it IS a lot easier than thinking of anything new, now that you mention it. And yes, you can expect more of this same laziness in the future. It’s what I do.)

Buddy, exemplary in his refusal to condemn the old man for his unknown past, fans the flames of grief and guilt into the purifying fire Bush so desperately needs. His remarkable generosity is a reminder that “judge not, lest ye be judged” is more than just a warning against the dangers of hypocrisy; it is a powerful antidote to the deadly division our unbending judgments create between us and those who most need our assistance.

In the film’s pivotal moment, as Bush begins to sink once again under the burden of his past, Buddy refuses to give up, insisting that he will do everything in his power to help The Hermit reach his goal. Buoyed by the young man’s genuine concern and strength of character, the old man says: “I guess for every one like me, there’s one like you, son. I about forgot that.”

If anyone’s interested in a double-feature, pairing this film with Scott Teems’ equally under-appreciated (and slightly more ambiguous) That Evening Sun from the same year is pretty much perfect. Strikingly similar both thematically and from a story perspective — and anchored by an equally impressive cast and searing central performance — That Evening Sun can be rented from AMAZON INSTANT VIDEO($). Plus, as an added “bonus,” I wrote about it mere months after taking on Get Low for the first time. (Sorry. I’m doing it again, aren’t I?)

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