3.5 stars. Rated R, for profanity, dramatic intensity, violence and drug use
By Derrick Bang
This film’s Christmas Day release
couldn’t be more appropriate: Rarely has a real-world individual been depicted
in a manner so reminiscent of Charles Dickens’ Ebenezer Scrooge.
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| Invitation to catastrophe: Gail (Michelle Williams) and her husband John (Andrew Buchan, right) assume that being embraced by his father, J. Paul Getty (Christopher Plummer) will be the best possible thing for their family, and particularly for their eldest child Paul (Charlie Shotwell). How wrong they are... |
Although All the Money in the World draws its stomach-clenching suspense
from the uncertain fate endured by its young victim, director Ridley Scott’s
film gets most of its juice from Christopher Plummer’s mesmerizing portrayal of
billionaire J. Paul Getty: an avaricious, repugnant monster whose
breathtakingly awful behavior knows no bounds.
Indeed, each example of cruelty
is topped by one that’s much worse. We’re frequently inclined to believe that
scripter David Scarpa fabricated this or that jaw-droppingly ludicrous detail
... but no. Getty really was that stingy and parsimonious, particularly with
family members, and Plummer’s performance oozes heartless contempt. (How
artistically fitting that Plummer recently played Scrooge in The Man Who Invented Christmas.)
Scarpa’s script is drawn from the
relevant portion of John Pearson’s 1995 book, Painfully Rich: The Outrageous Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Heirs of
J. Paul Getty. One can’t help feeling that it ain’t easy to be wealthy
(although everybody would love to try).
I also can’t help wondering if
Scott, Scarpa and Plummer intend this performance as a thinly veiled indictment
of the similarly callous behavior currently emanating from the unfeeling
über-rich in Washington, D.C.
Plummer is so perfect — so contemptibly
vile — that it’s difficult to imagine anybody else in the role. And yet he was
a last-minute replacement for the publicly disgraced Kevin Spacey, who had
completed work on the film. Assuming Scott and Sony are willing to release that
footage, it’ll be fascinating to compare the two performances, once this drama
hits home video.
(Actually, 88-year-old Plummer
seems a better choice than 68-year-old Spacey, given that Getty was 81 when
these events went down.)
All the Money in the World concerns one of history’s most
unusual — and protracted — crimes: the 1973 kidnapping of Getty’s 16-year-old
grandson, John Paul Getty III, affectionately known as Paul. He endured half a
year of imprisonment, from mid-July through mid-December, while his captors’
demands encountered a brick wall of refusal from the old man.
Plummer puts waspish disdain into
the justification for his unwillingness to pay the ransom, in a quote gleefully
reported by the Italian press, and made infamous throughout the world: “I have
14 grandchildren, and if I pay a penny of ransom, I’ll have 14 kidnapped
grandchildren.”
In theory, this seems the sage
response: Never negotiate with terrorists.
In practice ... perhaps not so
much.
The story’s core gravitas comes
from the clash between Plummer’s immovable object and the unstoppable force of
Gail Harris Getty, played with equal intensity by Michelle Williams. Although this
performance isn’t as poignantly powerful as her Oscar-nominated role in 2016’s Manchester by the Sea, she doesn’t miss
by much; Gail’s grief and bewildered helplessness are palpable, as she’s
repeatedly stonewalled by an army of attorneys, the latter typified by Timothy
Hutton’s condescending Oswald Hinge.
The story’s most intriguing
conceit is this clash between two determined characters almost never in each
other’s presence. As the situation intensifies, Getty refuses to accept or
return Gail’s increasingly anxious phone calls, nor will he see her.
Given her father-in-law’s
reclusive nature, Gail became the primary conduit to the kidnappers, who — as
the weeks and months pass — simply can’t believe that she, as a member of the
Getty clan, can’t raise the ransom herself.
Events begin when Paul (Charlie
Plummer, no relation to Christopher) is snatched while foolishly strolling the
less savory regions of Rome’s late-night streets. Charlie Plummer perfectly
captures the rebellious teen’s foppishly Bohemian nature: the vacant smile,
swanning manner, androgynous clothing and long, curly hair. He radiates
foolishness: a puppy unaware that he’s surrounded by vipers.
The kidnapping seems inevitable,
orchestrated by a scruffy crew of opportunists who conceal Paul in a mountain
retreat, and demand a ransom of $17 million. One of them, Cinquanta (Romain
Duris), comes to sympathize with the terrified boy; they bond warily over time,
particularly as the increasingly astonished Cinquanta struggles to understand
the dynamic between Gail and her stubborn father-in-law.
Duris makes Cinquanta a complex
and fascinating character: a proudly Italian “family man” nonetheless
honor-bound to adhere to the “cause” that the ransom money will help fund. Duris’
incredulity becomes almost comical, as Cinquanta comes to understand that (these
particular) Americans have little use for family ties. Duris deftly sketches
the man’s conflicting loyalties, as his compassionate nature prompts him to
risk his own life, in an effort to stall and keep Paul alive.
And in one piece.
The elder Getty’s response is
limited to ordering his security advisor and “fixer,” J. Fletcher Chase (Mark
Wahlberg), to suss out the situation. Although once affiliated with the CIA,
Chase’s primary skills are psychological profiling and negotiation. It’s never
really clear what Getty expects — that Chase will argue the kidnappers down to
some insignificant sum, or somehow rescue the boy? — but he’s primarily
instructed to “handle” Gail.
Wahlberg’s Chase is cool,
pragmatic and enigmatic; despite the expensive suits and unruffled exterior, he
always seems capable of sudden violence.
Gail, fully aware of his efforts to manage her, is initially contemptuous:
particularly when Chase’s first assumption about the situation proves
grievously incorrect.
That gaffe notwithstanding, Gail
and Chase become the Forces Of Good ... which, ironically, is where Scarpa’s
script begins to lose credibility. Williams, both Plummers and even Duris look,
sound and feel like their real-world counterparts; in contrast, Wahlberg struts
about like a movie character, particularly when — as Scarpa’s script demands —
Chase’s conscience surfaces.
This ethical epiphany leads to a climactic
encounter with the elder Getty that may be a crowd-pleaser, but it rings
entirely false ... as are many of the third act’s final moments. The elder
Getty actually lived three years beyond this story’s events, which makes Gail’s
last meeting with Hinge a total fabrication.
Scarpa also errs with respect to
the modified ransom demands, as they descend from the initial $17 million.
That’s just bizarre; the story wouldn’t lose any dramatic impact if such
details were more accurate.
The tech credits are top-notch,
as always is true of Scott’s films. Production designer Arthur Max makes the
most of existing London and Roman locations, particularly with the elder
Getty’s opulent estates in those two cities (Hatfield House and the Villa
Wolkonsky, respectively). Not since Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane have the trappings of ostentatious wealth seemed so vulgar.
Andrew Buchan, recognized from
the British TV series Broadchurch, plays
John Paul Getty II — Gail’s husband, and Paul’s father — as a useless,
weak-willed failure: little more than a mouth-breathing waste of space. Buchan
makes an impressively strong impression during limited screen time: We completely
loathe the man.
Charlie Shotwell is buoyant,
cheerful and full of promise — during some flashback scenes — as 7-year-old
Paul.
Daniel Pemberton’s orchestral
score often serves as atmospheric emphasis, the melodies becoming sinister at
unexpected moments.
Ultimately, oddly, Scott’s film
is less than the sum of its various impressive parts. The contrived finale is
mostly to blame, but the problem goes deeper; the tone is somehow off. Perhaps
it’s a matter of Scott and Scarpa trying too hard to make their film a morality
play, too frequently reminding us of aphorisms such as this one from W.C.
Fields: “A rich man is nothing but a poor man with money.”
Or, perhaps, 16-year-old Paul
just doesn’t seem worth saving:
likely not the reaction all concerned intended.
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