The Drop
(2014)
(SPOILERS) The Drop
is a very pleasant surprise. I had the impression it was rather tepidly
received by critics (although the “arbiter” that is Rotten Tomatoes suggests
otherwise), and I haven’t been overly impressed with past adaptations of Dennis
Lehane material (even the best have been lacking something). This one is
self-adapted from his short story and, while it’s not without its flaws, it is
anchored by a powerfully magnetic performance from Tom Hardy, underplaying yet
simultaneously sucking all the attention in the room his way. Director Michaël R
Roskam complements him with deceptive sureness of tone, exerting a grip despite
an unhurried, measured pace.
The film, originally known as Animal Rescue (an understandable title to change, but The Drop is so nondescript its no wonder
it didn’t get much notice), went largely ignored by the public. It seems destined
to be noteworthy only as James Gandolfini’s final role, rather than for its
content. In respect of his performance, there isn’t anything very remarkable
here; Gandolfini’s done this kind of thing many times before. He’s dependable
and professional, but Marv, former owner of the Brooklyn bar that is now used
as a money drop for the Chechen mob, is a familiar type; a low-level guy
without the stones to make it bigger in the criminal world but the need for
cash and a means to get some.
Bob (Hardy) is Marv’s cousin and the bar tender. He comes
across as slightly slow and internalised, a man who dutifully does what he is
told, lives in his deceased parents’ house and frets over having a dog because
of the responsibility. Bob appears to be a bit of a soft touch, allowing a
regular to run up a tab, giving out free rounds and at Marv’s beck and call.
And for a long time it’s difficult to gauge where he’s coming from. Part of the
fascination with The Drop is figuring
Bob out.
When the bar is robbed, and the Chechens’ money taken, Bob’s
response is not fearful. And when the arm of one of the robbers shows up in a
bag full of money, Bob’s response is to carefully (obsessive compulsively?) wrap
up the arm in cellophane before dropping it in the river. This contrasts with
his reaction to Nadia (Noomi Rapace). After finding an abandoned puppy (Rocco)
in her trash, he strikes up a tentative relationship based on her dog
knowledge. But Bob is very backwards in coming forwards, shy and diffident. And
her ex, menacing lowlife Eric (Matthias Schoenaerts), is given to showing up at
his house and threatening him.
Lehane’s script only gradually reveals Bob, and even come
the credits he leaves us to fill in the blanks. As we discover Marv was behind
the robbery, so Bob’s light begins to seep from under the bushel (“Are
you doing something desperate? Again?” he asks Marv, who drops hints of Bob's concealed potential throughout). Is he really going to
submit to Eric, give him ten grand to keep Rocco? The reveal of Bob’s steely resolve
isn’t as in a flash, when all of a sudden we discover someone isn’t who they
appeared to be. Bob kind of is who he
appears to be.
Bob’s someone who allows himself to be what people think of
or project on him. He’s unassuming because others think he’s unassuming, and
because it means no one is looking his way. But he also inhabits the role he
has fashioned for himself. He will only take what is readily within reach, and
even then he is nervous of such attachments. This explains his curiously
limited analysis of why he kills Eric (“He
was going to hurt our dog”), which might suggest a morally unplugged or
empathically disconnected inner life (but which is contrasted by his
perceptiveness throughout, be it correcting Marv on the pronunciations of
Chechens or revealing to Nadia why he never brought up her scars). He let Rocco become part of the tiny microcosm of things he cares about, and his
personal code knows no limits under those circumstances (which is why he killed
Richie Whelan for Marv all those years ago). It’s why he is more comfortable with
Nadia running away from him; he rather expects her to confirm she wants him to
“stay away” at the end.
Bob isn’t unveiled as your standard issue sociopath then,
but he lives in a world where diminishing himself is protective. He doesn’t
embrace his capacity for violence, which is why he doesn’t take communion and
doubts there is forgiveness for what he has done, and it’s probably why he
keeps Whelan’s body in the oil tank in the basement (to be mindful of what he
has done, and what hangs over him). When he says to Nadia, “No, I’m not them. And I’m not this” he
isn’t. But he has the capacity to be both.
This is a fascinating, riveting performance from Hardy, and
primary evidence, if any were needed, of why he’s one of the best actors
working today. When Detective Torres (John Ortiz) says “No one ever sees you coming, do they Bob?” it’s a "cool" moment, but
one that is a little over-conflating. Bob isn’t a Keyzer Soze-like mastermind
leading a double life and retreating to the shadows. The fade to black before
Nadia returns (we hear her footsteps) isn’t a “Will she or won’t she?” so much
asking if Bob can adapt to her presence in his life or will he ultimately be
compelled to retreat from this involvement and confronting himself through her.
Hardy is so consummate, it’s a shame some of the surrounding
elements aren’t so well handled. Rapace is fine, but her role is barely there.
The Torres subplot expounds every dogged cop cliché going. And having Chechen
gangsters, in the same year as The
Equalizer, The November Man and John Wick (another picture that revolves
around a faithful pooch) seems like everyone has the same go-to Eastern
European gangster locale. Schoenaerts is suitably slimy as Eric, though, a
believably intimidating presence even up against Hardy, while Ann Dowd has a couple
of scenes as Marv’s sister and makes the most of them.
There appears to be a subtext about lost causes here; it’s notable
that Marv’s choice is, on the surface at least, motivated by a wish to do the
right thing. He needs to pay his father’s care bills. Yet his father is in a
vegetative state, and his sister is able to face the reality that it’s time to
take him off life support. Marv’s inability to do likewise, in the same way
that he can’t accept that he no longer has any street cred, is his undoing. In
contrast, the more perceptive Bob sees the battles he cannot win, and is even
reluctant to put himself out there with ones he can (a discarded dog, a
possible relationship).
As I say, I’ve been less than effusive over other Lehane
movies. I found Mystic River obvious
and manipulative, Gone Baby Gone fundamentally
miscast and ultimately contrived, and Shutter
Island barely had enough material to sustain a Twilight Zone let alone a two and a quarter hour movie. Yet The Drop, easily his least recognised
picture, is by far his most thought provoking and resonant. And coming hot on
the heels of Locke, The Drop is further evidence not only of
Hardy’s mesmerising screen presence, but also how accomplished an accent actor
he is.
