NIGHTCRAWLER (2014)

Jake Gyllenhaal plays Lou Bloom, a complete sociopath who adheres to a thoroughgoing capitalist ethic, much like Christian Bale as Patrick Bateman in AMERICAN PSYCHO.  Bloom communicates primarily by parroting the entrepreneurial self-help advice he reads on the Internet, and climbs the social ladder by cheating, lying, obstructing justice, and, overall, having a frigid heart. He’s a foil for the nasty underbelly of the so-called American dream: get ahead in life through hard work, elevate your status. NIGHTCRAWLER is here to remind us, all too often, getting to the top isn’t necessarily the most scrupulous endeavor, and—regrettably—certain sects of society have come to revere a greedy, Machiavellian ruthlessness.

NIGHTCRAWLER is the antithesis of feel-good escapism. It’s a sober, ballsy film with a bitter, bummer ending reminiscent of CHINATOWN, FIVE EASY PIECES, and so many classic, confrontational films of the 1970’s. Its socio-political indictments aside, it’s also an extremely well-crafted and engrossing thriller.

In the beginning of the film we find our antihero, Lou, hawking scrap metal to a construction company. It’s obvious he’s down and out as he drives around L.A. in his old, dingy Toyota, selling stuff he stole to pawn shops. His life changes, though, when he meets Joe Loder (Bill Paxton), a nightcrawler, or freelance video crime journalist and all-around gritty dude. I could do this, Lou thinks, and, sure enough, it’s not long before he’s racing to crime scenes to film bloodied car jacking victims and the like.

He’s in business. He eventually makes enough to trade in his Toyota for a Mustang and hire an assistant, Rick (Riz Ahmed), who is virtually homeless and willing to work for thirty dollars a night (Rick’s trust in Lou really comes back to bite him in the ass).

All the while Lou sells his footage to Nina (Rene Russo), the director of a news network down on its ratings. He becomes infatuated—enough to proposition her in a tacky Mexican restaurant (one of the most uncomfortable scenes I’ve watched in recent memory). She resists his forward, commodified attempts at seduction . . . but is that subject to change? Ultimately, she’s ruthless enough herself to admire him. She’s also willing to run his increasingly unethically obtained footage because, as Jane’s Addiction put it: “the news is just another show with sex and violence.”

Did I mention Lou’s footage is increasingly unethically obtained? Because it is. Big time.

NIGHTCRAWLER works. Unbelievably well. A lot of that has to do with its undeniably strong cast. Gyllenhaal: you thought he was screwed up in DONNIE DARKO? Just you wait . . . I don’t know what it takes to realize a venture capitalist sociopath. Now, I don’t think anyone does–not like Jake Gyllenhall, anyway. His dark, crazed power culminates as, in a fit of rage, he screams at his bathroom mirror before smashing it. That’s the face of a horrific refusal of weakness, and therin lies the essence of Gyllenhaal’s unforgettable character.

Everything about Rene Russo is so immensely believable, too. A seasoned, tough journalist, she’s beyond cynicism. It no longer occurs to her the purpose of the news is to inform citizens–to the best of its ability–of the true state of affairs in the world. Whatever gets the ratings is her mantra, and that means: “violent crime creeping into suburbia.” Aging Paxton is similarly jaded, and emerging actor Riz Ahmed is utterly plausible as a lost, desperate twenty-something. After his “job-interview” scene with Gyllenhaal in a greasy spoon diner, you’re left wanting to know more about him. Unfortunately, your curiosity is never satisfied.

Like the culture it critiques, NIGHTCRAWLER demonstrates an obsession with objects. So much cinematic significance is packed into recurring shots of the stolen watch Bloom wears, his Mustang, his chic sunglasses. Status symbols: the closest thing Bloom has to a raison d’etre.

You get so caught up in NIGHTCRAWLER’s thought provocation, in fact, that you worry it won’t have a bummer ending. The good guys, who are about as compassionless as the bad guys, can’t win, you say. A popcorn Hollywood ending would really muck up its integrity. It puts you on, for a moment, but there is no need to fear. NIGHTCRAWLER retains its integrity.

Writer/director Dan Gilroy (Rene Russo’s husband) has made his mark on confrontational cinema with NIGHTCRAWLER. He’s already a seasoned screenwriter (THE FALL, BOURNE SUPREMACY), but this is his directorial debut. He’s done something powerful. He’s penetrated a core, shown us a world all too real.

We’ll see if he can outdo himself.