God's Pocket

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It's 1978, and in a little working-class neighborhood on the south side of Philadelphia, Mickey Scarpato (Philip Seymour Hoffman) scrapes together a living as a small-time criminal alongside his best pal, Bird (John Turturro). Mickey's always been something of an outcast in God's Pocket - unlike most of its residents, he wasn't born and raised here - but his devotion to wife Jeanie (Christina Hendricks) and his ties to organized crime have at least garnered him a bit of respect. When Jeanie's son Leon (Caleb Landry Jones) turns up dead on a construction site, the police tell her it was an accident, but she doesn't buy it. Eager to please, Mickey agrees to make inquiries into the circumstances of the boy's demise, and also arrange for the funeral services - sadly, he's woefully incapable of performing either of these duties without leading to some sort of calamity. Meanwhile, a well-known newspaper columnist (Richard Jenkins) is also investigating the death, but his first meeting with Jeanie leaves him far more concerned with getting under her skirt, rather than to the bottom of the mystery. First-time director John Slattery (Mad Men) coaxes brilliant performances from the immensely talented cast he's assembled, with Hoffman's portrayal of a man broken and beaten down by life serving as a haunting reminder of the tragedy that would occur shortly after the film's Sundance debut. Hendricks is the lone weak point in an otherwise flawless cast, with her character's motivations for succumbing to the advances of an aging, alcoholic newspaperman straining the limits of credibility. Much like the neighborhood where the film takes place, God's Pocket is populated with an assortment of interesting, colorful characters that we're anxious to learn more about. It's a shame, then, that none of these characters are ever fully developed. Slattery's debut plays more like a collection of scenes rather than a completed work, leaving the audience to only ponder what lies beneath the surface.

I just saw this son Netflix and said to myself, whoa, this looks familiar and it was! I forgot I had reviewed it a year ago. In that time, it has not gotten any better. It reminds me of all of those British (Irish, Scottish) films out today, full of despicable people living despicable lives generation after generation, drinking, drugged-out, totally godless people and we are supposed to care about them. I am equally confounded how so many films today feature adultery, infidelity, etc. and yet, never do any of the couples behave as if they took any vows at all - never any searching above for answers never ever considering what marriage really means, never ever calling on any "faith" to see them through. ORIGINAL REVIEW I know it is cliché, but this is a couple of hours I will never get back. What is this flick supposed to be about anyway? The mob? A cover-up? Racism? Your guess is as good as mine. I could not say the performances were great because the storyline is lacking. Why, for example, was everyone so intimidated by Hoffman's character? Is he "connected" or what? It sure did not seem like it. What was with all the "goons" sent out to break a few legs? For what? The undertaker? One minute is is shaking in his boots, the next he has his own boys exact a little justice. The stepson? Seriously? The guy was nuttier than a fruitcake and we are supposed to believe his vestal mother (or anybody else) thought him a good boy? And again, why was everyone so afraid of Hoffman? Why were so many characters (eg Turturo) who were supposed to be tough be so apparently not? Not even in an all-mob-guys-act-tough-but-really-are-just cowards-at-heart way. The mother character (as played by that woman from Mad Men,) was embarrassing and reminded me of a performance Jayne Mansfield might have given had she been trying to prove she could "act." And the reporter guy from Six Feet Under (whose work I generally like) was a cartoon too. And why take us back to explain how the whole thing started? What "whole thing"? The huge funeral - for this little creep? Were the mourners "obligated to go" in an allegiance-to-the-mob kind of way? The horse betting? The small potatoes chits? These "big shots" who sweat over a $6,000 funeral? The "I know he didn't die like they said" stuff? I mean, come on: you'd think she'd be surprised that his body ended up in one piece! I don't know. Maybe I should have read the book, or will (might). Otherwise, calling this a dark comedy seems a bit desperate and only come up with after the creative team saw what it had. The ending seems slapped on and proves that for me. Nonsensical. I hate when I can anticipate the movie ending and not knowing what the hell I just saw. When you sit there going, huh, you mean that's it?

GOD'S POCKET (2014) ** Philip Seymour Hoffman, Christina Hendricks, Richard Jenkins, John Turturro, Eddie Marsan, Caleb Landry Jones, Peter Gerety, Lenny Venito. John Slattery's feature film directorial debut is leaves more to be desired in his adaptation of Peter Dexter's novel (he also co-wrote with Alex Metcalf the screenplay) about the ne'er-do-well's of a Philadelphia community with Hoffman (in one of his final performances) as a put-upon, debtor/bettor who attempts to bury his venal stepson while trying to keep afloat of financial troubles (i.e. gambling) while his despondent wife (Hendricks, mere window dressing) finds an unlikely suitor in the form of alcoholic journalist Jenkins. While there are practically no likable characters and half-baked dark comedy springing like crabgrass the film itself is an ugly slab of an attempt at low-rent Scorsese and Damon Runyon latter-day prototypes of losers on the down-low.

God's Pocket is worth a watch if for nothing else to see the talented Phillip Seymour Hoffman in one of his final leading roles. The film however is pretty depressing and tries too hard to be another Last Exit To Brooklyn without daring to go the extra mile regarding shock value. It's an interesting take on a story told a hundred times before, as this time the mafia thugs who are trying to extort and bully the community get chewed up and spit out by the community. We're made to believe that's because this community is so rough and tough and hardboiled and bad, but the characters don't really come across like that. The motivations of the characters are really hard to follow. One minute the main character is asking for the $700 that is owed him, the next minute (after losing everything he has on a bad horse race bet) he's acting like he doesn't want the $700 and only reluctantly taking it. And then there's the excruciatingly depressing subplot of the elderly journalist who strikes up an affair with the main character's wife, played completely vapidly by Mad Men's Christina Hendricks. The entire thing makes no sense, why she would so easily be seduced by him, how the community all knew about the affair literally moments after it happened, why she just stood there as the journalist was getting beat up at the end, showing no emotion at all. I just didn't understand what any of that had to do with anything other than they needed some narrative to create a movie that was longer than 80 minutes. Anyway, this is worth a watch. It's not completely horrible. But it's no Mean Streets either.