James Gray, 2007
On its initial 2001 release, it was almost impossible to convince someone to see James Gray’s impossibly wonderful second film The Yards, and even harder to convince someone of its genius. The follow-up to his promising and lugubrious 1994 debut Little Odessa, The Yards was a melancholic New-York-set seventies-orientated family/crime epic that took its cues directly from Greek tragedy; as “classic” as contemporary filmmaking gets. Its deftly woven and quietly masterful tale of a family tearing itself apart is here revisited, and to say that it is every portion as dull and…god, stupid, if I’m honest, is the saddest “Cut! No, no, no…” news of the year.
In its portrayal of a police force waging a war on drugs it is both thoughtless and clichèd, and borders on being a mindless and dimensionless pro-cop/anti-drug good guys/bad guys parable. In its portrayal of a family coming apart it is awkwardly plotted, riddled with hurried arcs and simple characterisations, and it squanders a tense and nicely composed first act. The performances are largely informed by the simplistic script, and suffer thusly. Only Duvall brings anything more to his celebrated cop/father role than is asked, his moving and complex performance the only light in this cave.
It looks awful. It sounds terrible. I am inconsolable.
