Blow the Man Down: Quietly suspenseful

Blow the Man Down (2019) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated R, for profanity, violence, sexual candor and brief drug use
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 4.1.20

Some stones are best left unturned.

Blow the Man Down — streaming via Amazon Prime — is an impressive feature debut by indie writer/directors Bridget Savage Cole and Danielle Krudy, and a snarky slice of modern noir: Fargo transplanted to the similarly rugged Northeast.

Faced with the need to dispose of incriminating evidence, sisters Mary Beth (Morgan
Saylor, left) and Priscilla (Sophie Lowe) believe they've hit upon the perfect solution.
Alas, what the tide takes out, the lapping waves almost always bring back...

The setting is Easter Cove, a remote fishing village on Maine’s rocky coast, where (and I’m quoting the press notes here) “bonds run as deep as the ocean, and secrets are as thick as the morning fog.” Cole, Krudy and cinematographer Todd Banhazi deftly convey this setting’s isolation and bitter cold, and the location clearly is authentic (with Maine’s Harpswell, population just shy of 5,000, standing in for the fictitious Easter Cove).

Folks have kept themselves to themselves for generations; the notion of outsiders — or tourists — is incomprehensible. And while outwardly the community is kept alive by the tough and robust men who, every morning, take to the sea for the daily catch, appearances can be deceiving.

The story opens just after the passing of beloved town matriarch Mary Margaret Connolly. She leaves behind two young adult daughters: the elder Priscilla (Sophie Lowe), who kept the family fish shop going during their mother’s declining health; and the more restless Mary Beth (Morgan Saylor), who has long hoped for college and a life anywhere other than Easter Cove.

Ergo, Priscilla is the loyal and responsible daughter, while Mary Beth is more of an impulsive wild child. Priscilla’s obvious hope that, with their mother now gone, Mary Beth will step up and accept her share of the new responsibilities — bills and unpaid loans that have left them financially precarious — are dashed almost immediately.

Lowe’s features reflect the pinched, quietly anxious aura of one who has grown accustomed to living under constant stress; she persuasively conveys Priscilla’s visible disappointment, with a soupçon of resentment, at her younger sister’s selfishness. Saylor, in turn, is equally convincing as the spoiled and self-centered Mary Beth, who sees no reason to put on her big-girl pants.

But neither girl realizes the degree to which their mother maintained a delicate balance, behind the scenes, among the town’s true old-guard operators: discrete manipulators Susie Gallagher (June Squibb), Doreen Burke (Marceline Hugot), Gail Maguire (Annette O’Toole) and Enid Nora Devlin (the indomitable Margo Martindale). 

The latter has long run her bed & breakfast as the local brothel, an operation that was “protected” by Mary Margaret. But with that shield now absent, Susie, Doreen and Gail are (they believe) in a position to clamp down on Enid’s blatantly depraved operation, which also has been tolerated — with a wink-wink/nudge-nudge — by feckless Police Chief Coletti (Skipp Sudduth).

Ah, but Enid isn’t about to go quietly, thank you very much. Given the icy steel that Martindale puts into every syllable, and the implied threat of Enid’s posture, she clearly expects to carry the day. But the other three aren’t ineffectual church mice; film buffs who recall the feisty Squibb’s Oscar-nominated performance in 2013’s Nebraska won’t be surprised by Susie’s equally unwavering resolve.

Hugot expertly wields a disarming smile, when Doreen goes in for a similarly quiet jab; O’Toole’s Gail is more visibly emotional, likely more concerned — than the others — about ethics. Gail seems to disapprove of Enid’s brothel on moral grounds, whereas Susie and Doreen are more concerned with appearances.

Until now, Priscilla and Mary Beth have remained oblivious to such clandestine maneuvers. But when the reckless Mary Beth picks up the wrong companion at a local bar, things rapidly turn dangerous … and, suddenly, Priscilla is faced with a tough choice: Involve the police, or stand by her sister.

The question, of course — actually one of many — is whether Mary Beth will stand by her.

Since Cole and Krudy are going for the Fargo vibe, matters lean more toward sinister atmosphere and malevolent behavior, as opposed to virtuous conduct. Outward decorum becomes paramount, but there’s a key difference between this film and Fargo. Most of the latter’s characters are burlesques, with exaggerated mannerisms that amplify a dark-dark-dark comic tone. The people here feel more authentic, even if several cast members — chiefly Martindale and Squibb — add a sardonic edge.

Even so, it’s a stretch to define the result as a “comedy drama,” as IMDB does, but there’s no denying the enjoyment of watching Martindale, Squibb, Hugot and O’Toole subtly slice each other with verbal daggers.

And I should mention that a fish knife plays a key role in these proceedings.

Additional characters include Officer Justin Brennan (Will Brittain), a young — and presumably new — addition to the force; Alexis (Gayle Rankin), one of Enid’s more vulgar hookers; and Gorski (Ebon Moss-Bachrach), a thoroughly unpleasant fellow who clearly isn’t a fisherman.

Brittain’s Officer Brennan is the most interesting: alongside Priscilla and Mary Beth, a completely “normal” character in this somewhat heightened reality. Brittain exudes moral clarity; Justin is serious about his work, and genuinely wants to solve what soon becomes an increasingly odd and expanding case.

These events are bookended — and occasionally interrupted — by a true Greek chorus: a quartet of fisherman, led by David Coffin’s booming tenor, who progressively deliver verses of the 19th century sea shanty that gives this film its title, and whose lyrics serve as a clever metaphor to on-screen events.

This little film makes savvy use of its obviously modest budget, and at 91 minutes knows when to get off the stage. Based on this thoroughly engaging debut, Cole and Krudy clearly have a successful career in their future.