The
Stranger
Jodi
Foster on a killing spree BY
JASON BLAIR
THE
BRAVE ONE: Directed by Neil Jordan. Written by Roderick Taylor,
Bruce A. Taylor and Cynthia Mort. Cinematography, Philippe Rousselot.
Music, Dario Marianelli. Starring Jodi Foster, Terrence Howard,
Nicky Katt, Naveen Andrews and Mary Steenburgen. Warner Bros. Pictures,
2007. R. 119 minutes.
Jodi
Foster in The Brave One
Erica Bain (Jodi Foster) is in love with New York.
Each week, Bain hosts the fictional "Streetwalk" radio show —
an über-literate stroll through the forgotten corridors of
New York — during which she brings alive her city's kaleidoscopic
infrastructure. A typical Bain oration will tell you that the Plaza
is a fine hotel, but only insofar as it's the setting for the Eloise
books. In her slightly papery but honey-tongued delivery, Bain's
message is a determined love it or lose it. It's an ironic
theme, because as everybody knows, The Brave One is also
about Bain's other great love, her fiancé David Kirmani (Naveen
Andrews, of Lost). Early in The Brave One, David is
taken from Erica, an event which the movie telegraphs in two ways.
One, David is the more "ethnic" half of an interracial relationship.
(I'll revisit this point later.) And two, just before David dies,
Erica squeezes his arm and says jubilantly, "God, it's so pretty
out!" Once again, nothing says danger like a moment of perfect bliss.
Following the attack, Erica can't go back to the
bookish person she was before. The whites and pastels disappear
from her wardrobe. Cigarettes become prominent, then permanent,
forever dangling from her lips. Before, she was lovely but also
slight and a little mousy. She was like a librarian who quotes D.H.
Lawrence to sound dangerous but only ends up seeming less dangerous
for it. Now, frightened of her own shadow, Erica decides to buy
a gun illegally, a significant test of will for both Erica —
darling of the NPR set — and Neil Jordan (The Crying Game),
director of The Brave One. The gun shop scenes are crucial
and mostly effective; we truly believe that Erica may not have the
nerve for vigilantism. But the second test is a great deal more
complicated, for it involves Erica taking her first life. When the
time comes, it's unconvincing: Erica gets caught in the middle of
a holdup seemingly hours after purchasing her gun. At any rate,
Erica's transformation is complete: She is now officially armed
and dangerous. Whether any of it is credible is another matter altogether.
Fortunately, Erica's killing spree allows Detective
Mercer (Terrence Howard) plenty of screen time. Mercer is a role
that just a few years ago would have gone automatically to Denzel
Washington, who to me has hardened onscreen in the past few years.
Instead, it's a quiet breakthrough for Howard (Hustle & Flow),
who understands the intensity of a whisper. There are some fine
exchanges between Mercer and Erica, touched off largely by what
Mercer doesn't know: Mercer, a fan of Erica's radio program, is
investigating both her crime spree and the murder of her fiancé.
Mercer, of course, thinks he's looking for a male, but he's the
type of cop that won't be fooled for very long.
I mentioned credibility. I also mentioned the race
issue. One of the many problems with The Brave One is how
dated it seems in its Death Wish worldview. This is a story
that, if properly handled, should be asking, How does one live
after the murder of a loved one? What is the process of recovery?
What we get is a dystopic vision of Manhattan in which all the victims
are black or Hispanic while Erica runs around like Linda Wertheimer
packing heat. Erica doesn't negotiate. She kills when she doesn't
have to. She even tape-records her crimes. (Conveniently, witnesses
don't appear in The Brave One.) With its fine performers,
The Brave One could have investigated what happens when conscience
and morality are sacrificed to the impulse for revenge. Instead,
we just get revenge without consequence. There's nothing brave about
it.