Edmond
reviewed by Sam Osborn
rating: 3.5 out of 4
Edmond is a hardboiled, sharp-edged, loud-mouthed catharsis. Pure, unabashed emotion spilled onto the screen. It's daring, provocative, and beautifully offensive. It's as if screenwriter David Mamet vomited the words onto the pages, expulsing them from his heart and guts in a gushing release.
Many wonder why Mamet himself, being a highly respected rated-R filmmaker, didn't direct his own work. Edmond's director, Stuart Gordon, stated that it was because the film would probably strike too close to home for him. Mamet wrote the screenplay immediately after breaking up with his wife in New York City. The actions seen in Edmond are clearly the manifestations of the rush of emotions he felt at that time in his life. But as all skilled writers do, he expands the personal experience into a universal experience. The extreme feelings he releases are felt by every member of the audience open-minded enough to see past their vulgarity. Many people deal with the same controversial thoughts as Edmond does (racism, bigotry, homophobia, chauvinism), but are too timid to voice them. Like Chuck Palaniuk's Fight Club, Edmond explores a kind of masculine catharsis. And like Travis Bickle from Taxi Driver, his repression eventually leads to explosive violence.
The film begins with Edmond Burke's (William H. Macy) split with his wife. Getting up from bed he announces he's leaving. Not just for the night, but for good. At first not taking the news seriously, Edmond's wife plays along as if it was a joke. But Edmond insists that, yes, he's really leaving her for good. Exploding, his wife bounces around the room in a shocked rage, announcing that, no, he's not leaving her, but she's leaving him. And he's not welcome to come home. Of course, that's fine with Edmond because, in his words, he's been bored with his wife for a few years now.
He then begins his night on the streets of New York City, first meeting with a man at a bar (Joe Mantegna), who essentially has the lifestyle Edmond's looking to lead: something with girls, power, and money, and he supposes that's all. And so upon leaving the bar, Edmond sets out to settle the first part of his new life: girls. Prowling the night clubs, strip joints, and "masseuse" parlors, Edmond takes a businessman's approach to it, negotiating each financial commitment to the women.
From there, it'd be unfair to reveal Edmond's moves. It's too little to call it a downward spiral, a description that reminds me of something you'd see on the Lifetime Channel. No, Edmond's night leads to much larger happenings; some problematic and some eye-opening. But with each step he takes, there's a twinkle of imagination going off in the back of our minds saying, "do you think the film will actually make him do that?" And unlike other films that, no, wouldn't take their character that far into oblivion, Stuart Gordon seems to have no problem doing so. Each step is exponentially farther than the last, leading somewhere that we initially don't expect, but later realize to be entirely right and satisfying.
Along with the screenplay and directing, some incredibly daring acting work is featured in Edmond. William H. Macy, as we've come to expect, steals the show. Instead of relying solely on his sad-dog face he's so irritatingly known for, Macy takes this performance through a dizzying range of emotions. Julia Stiles makes an appearance in one of the finest and most shocking performances in the film. Also, Joe Mantegna as the man in the bar does well as the pivotal spark to Edmond's catharsis. Every actor actually deserves mention for daring to work on this highly controversial film. That also goes for the producers. Stuart Gordon said before the screening that "one of the biggest laughs in the film is when the credit for all the production companies comes up." The list is so long it really does evoke laughter.
reviewed by Sam Osborn
rating: 3.5 out of 4
Edmond is a hardboiled, sharp-edged, loud-mouthed catharsis. Pure, unabashed emotion spilled onto the screen. It's daring, provocative, and beautifully offensive. It's as if screenwriter David Mamet vomited the words onto the pages, expulsing them from his heart and guts in a gushing release.
Many wonder why Mamet himself, being a highly respected rated-R filmmaker, didn't direct his own work. Edmond's director, Stuart Gordon, stated that it was because the film would probably strike too close to home for him. Mamet wrote the screenplay immediately after breaking up with his wife in New York City. The actions seen in Edmond are clearly the manifestations of the rush of emotions he felt at that time in his life. But as all skilled writers do, he expands the personal experience into a universal experience. The extreme feelings he releases are felt by every member of the audience open-minded enough to see past their vulgarity. Many people deal with the same controversial thoughts as Edmond does (racism, bigotry, homophobia, chauvinism), but are too timid to voice them. Like Chuck Palaniuk's Fight Club, Edmond explores a kind of masculine catharsis. And like Travis Bickle from Taxi Driver, his repression eventually leads to explosive violence.
The film begins with Edmond Burke's (William H. Macy) split with his wife. Getting up from bed he announces he's leaving. Not just for the night, but for good. At first not taking the news seriously, Edmond's wife plays along as if it was a joke. But Edmond insists that, yes, he's really leaving her for good. Exploding, his wife bounces around the room in a shocked rage, announcing that, no, he's not leaving her, but she's leaving him. And he's not welcome to come home. Of course, that's fine with Edmond because, in his words, he's been bored with his wife for a few years now.
He then begins his night on the streets of New York City, first meeting with a man at a bar (Joe Mantegna), who essentially has the lifestyle Edmond's looking to lead: something with girls, power, and money, and he supposes that's all. And so upon leaving the bar, Edmond sets out to settle the first part of his new life: girls. Prowling the night clubs, strip joints, and "masseuse" parlors, Edmond takes a businessman's approach to it, negotiating each financial commitment to the women.
From there, it'd be unfair to reveal Edmond's moves. It's too little to call it a downward spiral, a description that reminds me of something you'd see on the Lifetime Channel. No, Edmond's night leads to much larger happenings; some problematic and some eye-opening. But with each step he takes, there's a twinkle of imagination going off in the back of our minds saying, "do you think the film will actually make him do that?" And unlike other films that, no, wouldn't take their character that far into oblivion, Stuart Gordon seems to have no problem doing so. Each step is exponentially farther than the last, leading somewhere that we initially don't expect, but later realize to be entirely right and satisfying.
Along with the screenplay and directing, some incredibly daring acting work is featured in Edmond. William H. Macy, as we've come to expect, steals the show. Instead of relying solely on his sad-dog face he's so irritatingly known for, Macy takes this performance through a dizzying range of emotions. Julia Stiles makes an appearance in one of the finest and most shocking performances in the film. Also, Joe Mantegna as the man in the bar does well as the pivotal spark to Edmond's catharsis. Every actor actually deserves mention for daring to work on this highly controversial film. That also goes for the producers. Stuart Gordon said before the screening that "one of the biggest laughs in the film is when the credit for all the production companies comes up." The list is so long it really does evoke laughter.