J. C. Chandor's notable A MOST VIOLENT YEAR: Saving the not-quite-best film for the last

Writer/director J.C. Chandor is making quite the name for himself -- with movies hugely acclaimed by the critics (myself included) while not setting the box-office afire. That might change just a bit (but not by much, I'm afraid) with the release of his third film, A MOST VIOLENT YEAR, which has been chosen by the National Board of Review (NBR) as the best film of 2014. Looking over the NBR's record for the past 20 years, I find the group has generally made wise choices for Best Film, with Finding Neverland and Quills the only real ringers. (Those films had certain qualities, but "best"? Please.) The NBR even managed to produce a very wise tie in 1994, honoring both Forrest Gump and Pulp Fiction -- a choice of quality both old and new.

Mr. Chandor (the filmmaker is shown at left) sets his newest endeavor in New York City back in 1981, which is said to have been the most violent year on record for NYC. Oddly enough, what distinguishes A Most Violent Year -- other than it's being very well written and directed (both by Chandor) and well acted by a talented ensemble -- is how very non-violent it turns out to be, given that the threat of same hangs over the entire movie. It also takes us into an industry into which we seldom venture: that of the fuel oil business. Evidently, back in 1981, trucks delivering fuel oil were being robbed repeatedly (below), while their drivers were often hurt in the process (further below). The particular driver we see here in both shots is played by a very good actor, Elyes Gabel, and it is his role and his performance that give the movie its beating heart.

I learned more than I would have imagined possible about the fuel oil business while watching this film, which was, back in that decade, at least -- if what we see and hear in the movie can be believed -- controlled by a few leading families, most of whom were involved in criminal activity to a greater or lesser extent.

The actual stars of the film are Oscar Issac and Jessica Chastain (shown below and further below), playing Abel and Anna Morales, the husband/wife owners of a relatively new fuel oil firm that is about to do a make-or-break deal which should insure its major growth. Both actors are, as always, very fine, with Mr. Issac (on screen most of the time) keeping his character and emotions quite close to the vest, as Abel attempts to curtail these robberies without resorting to any kind of illegal revenge.

Anna (Ms Chastain), on the other hand, comes from a high-level mob family and encourages Abel to do anything he must to right the situation, including, if necessary, using her family to help. But no, Abel is intent on succeeding on his own "honest" terms.

Is this even possible? The movie exists to answer that question, and the answer we get, as you might expect from Chandor, not to mention the situation itself, is anything but simple. As the film proceeds, we meet some of the Morales' friends, co-workers, competitors and police investigators (there are some fine supporting performances here from the likes of Albert Brooks, Alessandro Nivola and David Oyewolo), and we end up with yet another lesson -- one of the better ones -- about the costs of obtaining the American Dream.

Ms Chastain's role (unless much of it ended up on the cutting room floor) does not allow her much else than being an attractive, sexy nudge -- a smart one, but a nudge nonetheless. The movie belongs to its men, as has all three of Chandor's films, and they all come through with flying colors, each character offering up a different approach to violence and to the situation in which they're all involved.

Issac continues to grow as one of our most intelligent, tamped-down and subtle actors. Interestingly, his charisma can be seen most effectively in a twatty little pseudo-blockbuster like Sucker Punch, in which his Blue Jones character runs riot (watch this film to its conclusion and end credits, just to see him and Carla Gugino cut loose). I wish somebody would write Issac a role in which he could really fly. Clearly, he's got the wings.

Meanwhile, A Most Violent Year -- from A24 and running 125 minutes -- opens this Wednesday, December 31, in New York City at the AMC Loews Lincoln Square and the Landmark Sunshine Cinema. In Los Angeles, look for it The Landmark and the Arclight Hollywood. A wider release will hit theaters across the country in the weeks to come.

Bon voyage! Robert Redford captains J.C. Chandor's fine sailing saga -- ALL IS LOST

Get ready. But for what? Is this, as it appears, a kind of classy, arthouse version of the oh, no, no, no! mini-budget-but-grueling experience of Open Water? Best not to know any more going into ALL IS LOST, the new film from J.C. Chandor, that very talented writer/director of Margin Call, who is here dealing with a primal, man-against-the-elements theme, instead of the perhaps slightly-less-primal struggle of man-against-fellow-man (or woman) of the earlier film. But is today's audience ready for a movie about an aging sailor for whom, as the title proclaims, all is lost? Or is it prepared, rather, for a "movie," in which we know from vast experience, that hope springs eternal? We shall see.

In any case, the filmmaker, shown at left, has given us for the most part something we seldom see at the movies: A kind of you-are-there, moment-to-moment, often suspenseful, sometimes scare-the-wits-out-of-you experience in which we give up much of what we expect and demand from motion pictures -- dialog, back-story and characterization for starters -- and instead plunge into things head-first. I suspect most intelligent audiences won't mind the trade-off one little bit. So very well has Mr. Chandor filled his screenplay with incident, small and large, then paced his 107-minute movie like a continually cresting and waning wave, and so hugely effective is his star, the 77-year-old Robert Redford, who though showing every one of those years in his face, still commands a remarkably strong-looking and agile body, this one-of-a-kind film appears to be an instant classic.

Come on: Am I telling you that a movie featuring but one character, has almost zero dialog, and promises a set that is either inside the yacht or out on the ocean will rivet you for the total of its running time? I am. That Mr. Chandor has not even given Redford a cat to accompany him on the voyage and to whom he could chat now and then (and get us all sentimental in the process) speaks volumes about the kind of movie he wanted to make.

If only he had completely achieved this, All Is Lost might have been among the greatest films ever made. But there's that pesky thing about, well, the movie's music (credited to Alex Ebert), for one thing. If ever an endeavor could have managed nicely without any music, it's this one. Just the sound of the sea and wind and storm and occasional silence would have been fine -- and sometime Chandor gives us this. But then, in all those key dramatic moments, we get the musical "hype," which just adds to the "movie-ness" of it all. To be fair, I must say that the friend who attended the screening with me never even noticed the music. He did, however, thoroughly object to the barely-there shot of an appendage at the conclusion, which I found wonderfully swift and smart. To each his own, I suppose.

Story-wise, there is also the problem of something that occurs more often than it might. The first time, we're pinned to our seats with hope and despair, the second seems a bit like rubbing it in, and then.... On the plus side is the object that starts the whole story moving, simultaneously putting us in touch with globalization and the world in which we live.

Then there's the terrific character played by Redford. We know nothing about the man -- except, through his "goodbye" note, the words of which we hear read at film's beginning, in which he tells whomever that he is sorry. Yet in his moment-to-moment intelligence, actions and thought this guy becomes indelible. We are he and he us. And we don't need to know a lick about sailing per se to stay with the movie. This speaks volumes about Chandor's (and his editor Pete Beaudreau's) ability to get us to follow so easily what is happening and why, and further, to connect so strongly with our sailor's character and humanity.

While the photography is everything it ought to be (up top by Frank G. DeMarco, underwater by Peter Zuccarini), I do question the need for the underwater stuff, gorgeous as it is (that school of fish is memorable indeed), because it takes us away from our guy and further, it's something that our hero himself can't see, so why are we seeing it? I guess, simply to give us a little relief from the expected impending doom.

While these are not necessarily niggling problems, they still do not detract in any major way from the film's overall worth. Despite its faults, All Is Lost remains the kind of movie you rarely encounter. It's an achievement and -- more so, I think, than the also-at-sea Captain Phillips -- an absolute must-see for film buffs and maybe even for that quirky and fickle populace known as the "mainstream."

The movie -- from Lionsgate and Roadside Attractions -- opens today in Los Angeles at the AMC Century 15, Arclight Hollywood and The Landmark in West L.A.; in New York catch it at the Angelika Film Center, City Cinema 123 and AMC Lincoln Square. Next Friday, October 25, it breaks out nationwide.