Gone Baby Gone
By now, Ben Affleck has been dismissed by most as an actor of limited range. However, based on the strength of his 1997 screenplay for Good Will Hunting, I had always hoped he would get back behind the camera. With Gone Baby Gone, he has crafted an extremely good film, establishing himself as a very serious director and a real talent to watch. If that means the death of his onscreen career, it is a sacrifice well worth making.
Besides, it is his brother, Casey Affleck, who really has the acting talent. Here, as Boston private investigator Patrick Kenzie, he is almost as outstanding as he was in The Assassination of Jesse James. Kenzie is hired to look into the case of missing four year old girl Amanda McCready – a case that will eventually become an obsession for him. Affleck plays the role brilliantly; at once naïve yet wise, quiet but angry, and although he doesn’t look tough, it soon becomes clear he is very capable of taking care of himself.
The entire cast is provided with fully rounded, three-dimensional characters to really get their teeth into. Michelle Monaghan is excellent as Angie, Kenzie’s partner both romantically and professionally. Kenzie’s relationship with her begins to unravel as the story progresses, and it eventually becomes clear that his obsession could cause him to lose her. Amy Ryan provides brilliant support as Amanda’s drug addict mother Helene, who at first appears a hopeless case; childish, utterly irresponsible and seemingly unconcerned with her daughter’s disappearance. However, it soon becomes clear that she is grief stricken and desperately wants to change, even though she doesn’t know if she can.
Morgan Freeman brings the expected gravitas to the part of Jack Doyle, a police captain who lost his own daughter years previously and Ed Harris also has a terrific role as tough, cynical cop, Remy Bressant. Even the smaller parts, played by John Ashton, Amy Madigan, Titus Welliver, Edi Gathegi, Madeleine O’Brien and others, are hugely memorable.
In adapting Dennis Lehane’s novel, Affleck’s technique is simple but effective. He’s not afraid to use hand-held cameras, or to stage suspenseful sequences in near darkness, whereas a more anxious director making his debut is unlikely to be as experimental. One particularly effective moment where a character has killed someone for the first time sees said character staring at their reflection in a window. The reflection is ghosted, like a bad television reception, subtly suggesting how that character will never be the same. The gritty tone of the Boston neighbourhoods feels as real and believable as it did in Clint Eastwood’s similarly themed Mystic River (which was also written by Lehane). Speaking of influences, Affleck references several previous films concerning child abduction/death, including Don’t Look Now, The Pledge and even Fritz Lang’s 1931 classic M.
There are many, many fascinating issues raised by this dark and riveting thriller. Firstly and most obviously, it taps into the vein of cultural fear currently gripping ours and other western nations regarding child safety. Yet it does not exploit that fear for lurid purposes, but instead gets the audience to think about a more profound issue: just who do children belong to? The Bible is clear that children are a reward from God and that they only belong to their parents for a season. The film seems to side with this argument, and in its own subtle way condemns the argument prevalent in our society that everyone has the right to a child. Finally, and most contentiously, it discusses what role if any outsiders should have in protecting children, and suggests that sometimes intervention is not a good idea, even when the mother is an irresponsible drug addict. Outside of child protection issues, the film touches on themes of obsession, justice and revenge, and doesn’t offer any glib easy answers. Taking the law into ones own hands is questioned, as is “positive” corruption. Depending on the views of the person watching, the viewer will either cheer or condemn Kenzie’s uncompromising actions at the end.
Gone Baby Gone has had something of a troubled history on this side of the pond. Initially slated for release over a year ago, distributors decided to delay the film because of similarities to the Madeleine McCann case (indeed, the girl in the film does bear an uncanny resemblance). I am always cynical about such moves, since distributors claim it is to be sensitive, when in truth it is because they are worried it will affect box office takings. Such was the controversy that for a time it appeared the picture might go straight to video or wouldn’t get a UK release at all.
Thankfully, common sense prevailed and the film has finally been given a cinema run. Not that I expect it to do well as it is the wrong time of year for such intelligent fare, and it will no doubt drown in an ocean of summer blockbusters. If Gone Baby Gone is destined for obscurity, then that is a crying shame, as it is easily one of the best I have seen this year, and certainly the most underrated. Based on the strength of this extraordinary, haunting film, I eagerly look forward to Ben Affleck’s next project. It only remains for me to issue the obligatory warnings about repeated use of very strong language, as well as some violence, but much of this is mitigated by the setting and subject matter. Gone Baby Gone isn’t for everyone, and some of its plot developments are predictable, but for those who like strong, serious, uncompromised cinema which grapples with difficult issues; this is emotive, gripping, thought provoking stuff.
Simon Dillon, June 2008.
