Written by: Peter Farrelly, Nick Vallelonga, Brian Hayes Currie
Starring: Viggo Mortensen, Mahershala Ali, Linda Cardellini
IMDb Link
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Sometimes great actors go far beyond the material they are given. Such is the case with Green Book, a film tries and fails to reach further than the scope of its two leading characters, but whose leading men make far more out of their roles than most could.
The story follows Tony "Lip" Vallelonga (Mortensen), an Italian-American self-described "bullshit artist" who in a dry spell of work gets a job driving Dr. Don Shirley (Ali), an African-American piano master, on a two month tour through the Deep South in 1962. Through several charming anecdotes and uncomfortable, racially charged experiences, the two grow to become friends, almost by necessity. It's not exactly the most original story, but Green Book manages to put its strengths front and centre.
If nothing else, the performances from the film's two leads are fantastic. Mortensen embraces every facet of the character to create a trashy yet charming depiction of Vallelonga, the naive but street-smart archetype coming alive in a way that only a master of the craft can handle. It would be so easy for Vallelonga to devolve in to little more than broad stereotype, but Mortensen takes every opportunity he has to add that much more to the role than is first apparent, little immature moments weaved so naturally with his character-building moment, each step forward accompanied by a stumble that only has as much credibility as Mortensen gives it. Ali does just as well, ultimately more impressive for making his character as well-rounded and human with even less screen-time. We so rarely see the story from Shirley's perspective, yet Ali turns each moment we are alone with him in to a quiet realisation of what's going on inside him, saying nothing and yet priming viewers for his inevitable eruption. As strong as the two are on their own, they shine when they are together, their camaraderie despite their differences feeling so genuine despite the film's melodrama, the comedic moments where Vallelonga's naivete brushes up against Shirley's cultured demeanour, or Vallelonga balks at Shirley's lack of street experience, keeping the film going largely due to the work both leading men manage to accomplish together in just the space of a Cadillac.
The soundtrack is particularly noteworthy as well. The film generally rolls around playing jazz to keep the film light and breezy, any moments where things could get charged quickly forgotten as the film saunters to another anecdote with dulcet tones swinging every step. It also creates a strong contrast with Shirley's own classical work, and builds one of the film's primary themes in to the film itself. There's more examination of culture and class differences in the film's soundtrack then there is in the film proper, all the while doing its best to keep the film moving. That said, as much as the soundtrack and the leading performances work together to forge a good movie, it's not enough to make the film a great one.
What's bizarre about the experience is how much everything besides the lead performances and soundtrack weigh this feather-light film down. Several scenes are completely unnecessary for moving the story or characters forward, sometimes accomplishing nothing but re-iterating ideas present in the movie in the most on-the-nose and contrived way possible, without actually elaborating those ideas further. The film never builds to anything beyond the friendship between the two leading men, and any barrier to that is little more than a bump, yet it often attempts to insert conflict where it need not be, and so flaccidly that it comes off as little more than cheap and cheesy melodrama. Any narrative conflict seems to be used as little more than window dressing for more scenes of excellent actors acting excellently, any conversations the film has regarding race or class or social disconnect or sexuality are just another tool in the actor's toolbox. Then there's the framing of the film, which manages to flesh out Mortensen's Vallelonga considerably, because it tells the whole story from his perspective, but in the case of Ali's Shirley, the film had to rely mostly on Ali's magnificent charisma. It's almost like this film was put together using a series of charming anecdotes that Vallelonga told to his son, with no real connective tissue other than the two people involved, and embellished for the sake of seeming more significant than it actually is, before being re-told here by that same son. Almost.
Perhaps that's a little cynical of me to say in a movie that attempts so hard to be heartwarming, and know that I do recommend the film on the basis of its performances and soundtrack alone, but so much else in this film feels limited or shallow in its perspective, and seemingly unable to get away from obvious cliches, and as a result the overall experience too often seems fake. It's a movie that's saved by its performances, by two people too good at their jobs to let a movie be bad when they have so much understanding of good character work, breathing life in to material that otherwise offers such empty expressions of its ideas.
The Short Version: Stellar performances hold up a meandering story that charms when it tries to be funny but lays it on far too thick and with no self-awareness when it tries to tug at heartstrings.
Rating: 6.5/10
Published February 1st, 2019
