Four stars. Rated R, for relentless profanity and crude remarks
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 11.17.17
This may be the most unusual road
film I’ve ever seen.
The genre is characterized by a
trip undertaken by two (sometimes more) individuals who initially don’t get
along, and often bond — if only to a degree — by journey’s end. “Great truths”
about the travelers are revealed along the way; the more thoughtful scripts
also include perceptive social commentary, sometimes speaking to the human
condition.
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| When another snag interrupts their melancholy journey, Sal (Bryan Cranston, right) naturally drags his companions — Richard (Laurence Fishburne, left) and Doc (Steve Carell) — to the nearest bar. |
The approach can be straight
drama, high comedy or a combination of the two. The best examples employ gentle
laughter to illuminate human foibles.
Director Richard Linklater has
co-scripted — with Darryl Ponicsan — a deeply moving road film that builds to
an almost unbearably poignant conclusion. Last
Flag Flying has much to recommend it, starting with a clever narrative that
is punctuated by often hilarious dialogue. Linklater also draws deeply moving
performances from his three stars, and equal mention must be made of the two
key co-stars.
But the film is too long at 124
minutes, the pacing too deliberate, many of the slow takes too lingering.
Whether in cars, bars, restaurants or trains, this is essentially a “talking
heads” experience, and — no matter how well sculpted the drama — that’s hard to
sustain for two full hours.
Which is a shame. Tightened by
even 10 to 15 minutes, this film might have been a classic for the ages.
The story, set in 2003, begins
when soft-spoken New Hampshire family man and former Navy Corps medic Larry
“Doc” Shepherd (Steve Carell) unexpectedly shows up at the Norfolk, Va., bar
owned by alcoholic former Marine Sal Nealon (Bryan Cranston). Three decades
removed from their shared tour in Vietnam, Sal doesn’t immediately recognize
his former buddy; once past that snag, smiles abound.
Doc asks a favor; Sal doesn’t
hesitate a blink before accepting. Doc drives them a few hours away, where
they’re just in time to catch a church service led by Pastor Richard Mueller
(Laurence Fishburne), a mutual comrade-in-arms remembered as an unrestrained
Marine tear-away. The unexpected dichotomy is almost more than the giggling Sal
can stand.
Later, sharing a sumptuous meal
prepared by Richard’s wife Ruth (Deanna Reed-Foster), Doc confesses the purpose
for this reunion. He has just learned that his only son, a young Marine, has
been killed in Iraq; Doc hopes that his two friends will accompany him on a
road trip to attend the 21-year-old Larry Jr.’s burial at Arlington Cemetery.
They agree.
This process begins with a brief
“coffin ceremony” at Delaware’s Dover Air Force Base, where military coffins
are de-planed clandestinely, to avoid the public glare (a shameful media
blackout orchestrated at the time by the Bush administration, in an effort to
recast the Iraqi conflict as a “good news” story).
