Proving that dark comedy continues to be one of the most elusive genres, writer/director Brian Petsos returns to work with Internet darling Oscar Isaac in a confused attempt to warn us off the custard. What year is it again?
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Don’t hold my bias against me, it’s itchy
I am almost always suspicious of a film with a cast of which I recognise the majority. Don’t know why, I just am.
Perhaps I’m acting on my inherent distrust of big budgets – in a cinematic landscape dominated by adaptations of the most obscurely unartistic material and endless sequels, obscene spending feels like a parasitic and lazy way to exploit a pre-existing fan base.
The familiar faces punctuating the trailer for Big Gold Brick (2022) had me uneasy but admittedly intrigued. Aria from Pretty Little Liars (2010 – 2017), Megan Fox, and the guy who ends up with Cher at the end of Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again (2018)? Wait, is that Oscar Isaac in glasses!?
I’m cautious, but I’m definitely in.
I’m a wimp with a grudge
The film opens; narration with abstract visuals clumsily introduces us to Samuel (Emory Cohen). He’s packing up his small-looking life and telling us how awful everything is.
He escapes into the rainy night, angry because he is single and poor and tired.
It’s around here that the first of many flashes of surreal horror-ish elements appear, and they’re utterly delightful, even to me (someone who only recently was able to watch the entire Thriller music video for the first time without pausing it screaming “No I can’t do zombies I simply can’t!”).
Sam stumbles into the middle of a dark road, belligerent and hopeless, and it’s all very clear what’s about to happen. Show me the car!
Careening towards him behind the wheel is Floyd (Andy Garcia) – he is singing along to jazz and eating what appears to be ice cream from the tub (later confirmed to actually be frozen custard) whilst he drives alone in the middle of the night.
We’ve all been there (I literally have).
Collision. Searing music. Opening titles. Here we go.
Dick Dean in the comedy/fantasy/drama/independent film, “BIG GOLD BRICK,” a Samuel
Goldwyn Films release. Photo courtesy of Samuel Goldwyn Films.
Now, that grudge I mentioned…
There’s a lot to be bewildered by in this movie – the initiation of the plot absolutely being one of them.
Sam is in hospital, and the man that put him there is by his bed. Floyd tells the fresh-from-a-coma writer that he wants him to write his biography and live with him.
I’m not joking, that abrupt set-up is quite literally how it goes down.
Let’s meet the family. I guess.
Lucy Hale is Floyd’s violinist daughter who we’re told has had a breakdown, and we’re shown her smashing her violin on stage. You’ll always be Aria to me, Lucy.
Leonidas Castrounis is Floyd’s son, described as reminding Sam of himself – “a dangerous combination of incredible precociousness and hardwired pessimism”. This was when I groaned.
Megan Fox is Floyd’s wife and she is immediately subjected to a depressingly archaic slow motion entrance. Megan Fox gives the most stable performance of the entire cast, which makes how mistreated she continues to be as an actress even more heartbreaking.
Her character in this movie only participates in either sexually charged scenes (attempting to seduce someone she has never spoken to) or actual sex scenes with faceless men.
The Michael Bay effect continues to cast a long shadow as she is yet again cast as a lustful open mouth for basically every male character she encounters.
The whole construction of her character and casting feels so painfully regressive; staring at the 2022 release date alongside this film title is frankly damning.
BRICK,” a Samuel Goldwyn Films release. Photo courtesy of Samuel Goldwyn Films.
They say a break is as good as a rest
To be honest, my biggest bugbear with this movie was how much the storytelling was replaced with other things.
The film is saturated with music, and whilst the music itself is not unpleasant, the overuse of it in frequently replacing the dialogue in a scene (an artistic choice that is often very effective) here serves to simply detach you from the action instead of engrossing you.
Most huge emotional events occur within montages. Character development worthy of witnessing is boiled down into a series of clips and threadbare narration.
Alongside this economising of the vital, is the inclusion of the utterly pointless. There are scenes and interactions featured that you can only assume were intended to be funny but end up being empty and completely inconsequential.
The film seems unsure in its ability to surrender itself sincerely to the framing of the unreliable narrator. The tone is untidy – is this because we’re supposed to be viewing the story through Sam’s damaged perspective? Probably.
But that is never comprehensively communicated and committed to, and you’re left feeling as though you’re hearing a half-hearted witness account of events as opposed to experiencing immersion within a cohesive narrative and story.
Maybe this is because I found Sam a mostly unsympathetic character? Not only does he feel self-indulgent and filled with stagnant juvenile angst, we are crucially given his backstory via a brief dialogue in the opening.
We never feel any kind of sensory or tangible connection to his apparent suffering: the porosity of the story, the performances, of every accessory, is severely stunted by telling not showing.
GOLD BRICK,” a Samuel Goldwyn Films release. Photo courtesy of Samuel Goldwyn Films.
Hang on, who are you?
I think I really lost my patience about an hour in, when the film seemed to finally reveal its actual main plot focus point and I realised I didn’t really care. I was bored of these characters and the way they still felt like strangers to me.
In the final 20 minutes, the film clunkily throws in a brand new threat – really the only external threat the film has had the whole time outside of Sam’s ‘hallucinations’.
It shirks off their protagonist in favour of centralising Floyd and a storyline that has nothing to do with Sam whatsoever for less than half an hour.
It leaves the narrative direction so unclear and becomes the final nail in the coffin as to understanding who this film is even about.
Why have I spent almost two hours inside this character’s head if the emotional swell of the movie is now solely about someone else?
Baby please no, let me help you
Ultimately, this movie wants to be funny and dramatic and mysterious and irreverent, but it is simply too disorganised.
The editing feels at odds with the message the visual aspect of the film tries to tell – the editing is sarcastic and comedic, the visuals are tame and uncomfortably sincere.
But despite the overly simplistic caricatures helming the story and their futile inexplicability, this film is not ugly to look at and there are clear attempts at spearing complex, interesting topics.
The notion that custard is some sort of bad luck magnet? Gorgeously bizarre.
I have one final bone to pick, though.
As someone who has had a broken arm 5 times, the depiction of Sam being able to competently and seemingly painlessly write with a pencil using his casted arm brings me an inexorable amount of rage. When will my people get fair representation?
Credits
Editor & Artwork: Richard Williams
Images courtesy of Samuel Goldywn Films
Journalism graduate passionate about writing, film and bothering people with her thoughts about both. Believes the cinema is a strictly solo activity. Frequently described as ‘intense’ and ‘shorter than I thought’.
I own this thing. Being creative makes me tick. Film lover. Coffee hater. Website manager, headline and copywriter, video editor, graphic/motion designer, editor, presenter...
