Screen Notes: X; The Outfit

Brittany Snow, Owen Campbell, and Jenna Ortega in X

As a double feature, the new horror outing X and the Chicago-set chamber-gangster film The Outfit make an illuminating study in how to walk the fine line of meta-cinema, both pictures taking careful strides from the get-go to focus your attention on the construction of the film itself, the choices and process by which they were both so carefully made. In the case of X, the film-within-a-film preoccupation is cued within the opening long shot of the primary location that seems at first like the boxier 16mm Bolex aspect ratio common to independent filmmaking of the 1960's and 70's--be it a porno like the one being shot in the film or otherwise--but, after a second of adjustment, is clearly the widescreen lens of the film we're watching, shot through a window frame that crops our perspective from in-camera. At the risk of making X sound like an art film, this seems a carefully constructed balance or simultaneity of elements in a film that proves to contain multiple carefully balanced elements throughout--sex and horror, youth and age, genre and art, and, at the center, a dual performance by Mia Goth that exists inside a grindhouse fantasy hybrid of Psycho and Raging Bull (via Boogie Nights). X is surely not an art film, but in comparison to the repetitive trends of pop horror (something like, but not exclusively, the new Scream--also featuring Jenny Ortega, but to much less memorable effect) it feels exceedingly artful, even a bit risky, which is to be expected from the director of one of the most effective and impeccably directed horror flicks of the last fifteen years: The House of the Devil.

The Outfit, on the other hand, is a feature-length directorial debut by Chicagoan Graham Moore, who makes an interesting choice to write a distinctly Chicago movie without ever using a Chicago exterior (Michael Mann's Thief it ain't!) Instead, The Outfit attempts to use a theatrical, single-location obstruction to craft a highly contained, even claustrophobic, gangster mystery/thriller. When I first saw the title of the film I thought, perhaps, this was a remake of the 1973 Robert Duvall movie The Outfit, but it most definitely is not...and the difference between the two might be illuminating. For instance, the conceit of the title in Moore's The Outfit is much more precious than anything to be found in the terse, economical, and hard-boiled crime movies of the early 70's. In fact, Moore's film is exactly the opposite of that type of thing--because the title refers to a literal "outfit" as well as an organization called the "outfit" and is set in an outfitting shop...and if you find that clever, then this movie might be for you. In all fairness, the movie is often clever and ultimately as carefully constructed as the suits made by the central character, master cutter Leonard Burling, played by the always compelling Mark Rylance. I've oft noted that Rylance clearly deserves better than films like Ready Player One and Don't Look Up, and while I liked The Outfit a bit more than either of those, the mechanisms of the film are far too burdensome, and the occasional moments of nicely scripted humor misfired just often enough by the supporting cast  (including Zoe Deutch and Johnny Flynn) that by the final twist the film was no longer connecting. As if aware of it's own downfall, the final passage of the film on the inevitability of imperfection is almost uncomfortably on the nose, and unfortunately draws attention to a finale that stretches the whole affair far past some charming state of "wabi-sabi," by that point.

It's not even the hyper-aware conceit of paralleling the craft of "outfitting" or "cutting" in The Outfit with the meticulousness of Moore's script that makes the proceedings feel a bit suffocating, because the film would feel obvious even if it never acknowledged this parallel through the framing device of the central character's voice-over. In contrast, West has a perfectly loose hold on the evocative elements of X, to such an extent that even the riskier or downright silly aspects of the film are accepted as part of the fun, and are potentially what makes it truly smart. By comparison, West isn't showing off--the fun he's having is in seeing how deeply he can get us to open up to the ecstatic possibilities of a genre, and putting numerous elements in play via a story that is pretty confidently achieving a sort of Brechtian ideal, constantly reminding us of the film being constructed, landing, truly cleverly, on a final line that sticks the meta-cinematic landing, so to speak. Moore is having a spirited go at genre in The Outfit, as well, and as interesting an attempt at doing something theatrical on film as it may be, it feels less accessible, and maybe a bit too pleased with it's own craftsmanship.

Mark Rylance in The Outfit