Rated:
R
Runtime: 1 Hour
and 51 Minutes
Reviewer:
Dale
Grade: A
For a guy who made a mark on the film world by blowing people away
with a .357 Magnum, I am constantly stuck by how low key many of Eastwood's
films are. In a Clint Eastwood film, rarely is the world itself at
stake (something that was unique about "Space
Cowboys") or anything so gigantic. Usually, the tales which
Eastwood chooses to tell are modest ones. He isn't out to explode
as many buildings as possible and he really never has been. He has
always, I think, been more interested in character and story. He has
always been more intrigued by the way that people like Harry Callahan
think than he has with what they leave smoldering in their wake.
"Blood Work" concerns a serial killer, true, and several
murders, but it treats them almost as an afterthought. The real heart
of the film is Clint's heart. As the film opens, we see Clint chasing
down the suspect in a rash of killings, and doing so on foot. Just
when he has almost caught the fiend, Terry McCaleb suffers a heart
attack. The assailant gets away and, two years later, Terry (Clint)
is undergoing a checkup to see if his body will accept the new heart.
Shortly thereafter, Terry meets the sister of the woman whose heart
he has received in a transplant. She informs him that her sister was
murdered and that the killer has not yet been brought to justice.
Terry begins working on the clues, finding things that the other investigators
have either missed or chosen not to worry about, and begins a new
investigation that his fragile body may not be in shape for.
The mystery plot is absorbing (though, truthfully, I sorta knew where
the film was going from the very start, but I didn't know who would
turn out to be the killer until much later) and the pace of the film
never flags. But it is in Eastwood's portrayal of Terry McCaleb that
the film's real strength lies. I've never seen an actor advancing
in his years who was willing to take on a role that requires him to
be so fragile. Terry is in a precarious state of health and Clint
does such a good job with him that we believe it. Every time Clint
grasped at his chest or looked a little pale, I was nervous right
along with the other characters in the film. It is particularly painful
to see that scar of surgery which runs straight down the front of
his chest. I winced every time it was shown. Clint has never allowed
us to see him this way. He has never allowed us to believe that he
might die at any second, and not, necessarily, at the gunpoint of
some madman. It's refreshing to see an actor of Eastwood's age not
pretending to be younger than he is, but using his age and embracing
it as a facet of the character he is trying to portray. Perhaps this
is why Clint has not had the career problems of guys who aren't even
as old as he (Harrison Ford, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sylvester Stallone).
It's because Clint has an unerring knowledge of what he can and cannot
get away with. He knows how to find stories that fit his age and his
abilities (try to imagine another actor who would have brought the
collective audience memory to "Unforgiven" which enhanced
that character) and he knows how to direct them with a steady, yet
light, touch.
Aside from Clint's great performance and the steady pace of the film,
there are many other elements that make "Blood Work" function
so nicely. First off, it's got an original idea behind it, something
to distinguish it from all the other serial killer flicks. Secondly,
it doesn't wallow in the violence and degradation of the killer as
so many other films of this kind choose to do. Third, all the performances
are pretty much top drawer. I'm not just talking about Wanda DeJesus
as the tenacious sister of the murdered woman, or Angelica Huston
as Clint's no-nonsense cardiologist, or even Jeff Daniels who is so
wonderful as Clint's lazy bum of a neighbor. No. Every character is
an interesting and memorable one: the old lady who runs the convenience
store where the murders have happened, a witness to a crime who was
frustrated by the mistakes of the ambulance arriving on the scene,
a young widow who seems to exude pain and a sense of loss without
even trying. Each of these characters is so nicely shaded in by the
actor or actress portraying them, brought to such vivid life that
you are riveted by them and can sense that they might be real people
rather than puzzle pieces in a larger story.
The only real drawback to this film that I can put forth is Paul
Rodriguez. It was nice to see the dude get some work, but he's just
a bit much. He doesn't quite seem to know when to stop with the jokes,
sometimes at the risk of damaging the atmosphere of the rest of the
film. Whenever he's onscreen, you wish he had a bit more subtlety.
But that's about it. Otherwise, this is a riveting thriller that doesn't
need to hammer you over the head with violence or be about something
as monumental as the fate of the world or even pure evil, though it
does explore the nature of evil and insanity in several great scenes.
Our Man Clint is content to get all the characters right and to take
care with the story he has to tell, without feeling the need to make
it seem more important than it is. His modest, low-key approach to
the material is a refreshing one, and it is a vital component of the
film's success.
Though, I must add, watching Clint pull a shotgun out of a trunk
and start shooting at a suspect's car brought an immense smile to
my face It just seems so... right. So beautifully natural. And it
just serves to remind you that Clint may be getting old, but he sure
as hell ain't dead.