Thunder Road, 2018.
Directed by Jim Cummings.
Starring Jim Cummings, Kendal Farr, Nican Robinson, Jocelyn DeBoer, Ammie Leonards, Chelsea Edmundson, Macon Blair and Bill Wise.
SYNOPSIS:
After a very public and embarrassing breakdown at his mother’s funeral, a policeman’s entire life begins to unravel.
It’s not uncommon for a filmmaker to extend their own shorts to feature length. Recent examples include the low-budget horror Lights Out and Damien Chazelle’s Oscar-winning breakout Whiplash, which both began life as shorts. The latest director to make this jump is Jim Cummings, who has turned his prize-winning short Thunder Road into the opening scene of a powerful and affecting feature of the same name.
That opening scene features police officer Jim Arnaud (Cummings) delivering a horrifically bloated and awkward eulogy at his mother’s funeral, culminating in a rendition of the Bruce Springsteen song that gives the film its title. Cummings is terrific in this scene as a rambling, weeping mess of a person who is clearly losing his grip on reality in front of the audience’s eyes. As a showcase of acting and writing, displayed via an unforgiving stationary camera, it’s a hell of a statement of cinematic intent.
The movie that follows is a ramshackle journey into the heart of Cummings’s character, as his mental state fractures and unravels even further. He is locked in a battle with ex-wife Ros (Jocelyn DeBoer) for custody of his daughter Crystal (Kendal Farr) and trying unsuccessfully to throw himself into work to distract from his personal problems. Cummings portrays Jim as a good-natured and flawed man, who quite simply tries too hard and cares too much. When he fails to connect with Crystal over a playground clapping game, we learn that he stayed up all night practising so that he could nail it in the morning.
Thunder Road is an admirably lean drama, in which Cummings balances the emotional turmoil of his script with lashings of gallows humour. In particular, a classroom scene of Jim attending a meeting with Crystal’s teacher – played by Jeremy Saulnier regular Macon Blair – is a masterclass in toe-curling comedy. When Blair, through a veneer of uptight politeness, describes the expletives Crystal has been using at school and later surreptitiously moves a pair of scissors away from the reach of the increasingly upset Jim, it’s deliciously funny. Even some of the most horrifying scenes are leavened by absurd touches, with Jim at his lowest ebb yelling in a car park with an arse cheek hanging out of ripped clothing.
This is absolutely Cummings’s film in every sense of that idea and he deserves credit for his sheer willingness to throw everything, including the kitchen sink, at his performance. He’s a man who desperately internalises all of his issues, espousing the belief that “talking about your problems never helped anyone ever” and there’s an inevitability to his decline, given his refusal to seek help. As an avatar for the toxic masculine belief that men should be infallible and strong, he’s a sadly compelling creation.
The power of Thunder Road is in its creeping emotional impact, which isn’t truly felt until the final few scenes. Cummings’s performance is turned down from 11 for these moments and the effect is devastating, as the raucous silliness of the previous 80 minutes culminates in a gut punch that hits with savage ferocity. Thunder Road is rough around the edges and occasionally feels like the work of a director without much feature experience. However, when its multi-hyphenate leading man gives himself centre stage, he really takes the ball and runs with it all the way to the end zone.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Tom Beasley is a freelance film journalist and wrestling fan. Follow him on Twitter via @TomJBeasley for movie opinions, wrestling stuff and puns.
