Sympathy for the Devil

As an actor, Nicolas Cage has become a meme, especially as tax troubles caused his output to greatly accelerate over the past decade. Unsurprisingly, this has lead to less consistent quality from the movies he appears in. And yet, his dedication is never in doubt. Even on the occasion of a bad performance, you can feel him putting in the effort. This has resulted in him remaining a true movie star: audiences will watch these movies purely for Cage, quality of the premise be damned. It also helps that we never know which Cage we’re getting. Is it going to be wild-eyed, yelping, deranged Cage, such as in Face/Off or Ghost Rider? Or the calm, dramatic, adult drama version that made Pig a masterpiece?

This ambiguity gives directors a ton of options to play with. They can play with those preconceived notions for great effect. Play right into them, and present him as an unhinged character at full volume. Fake out the audience, establishing his character but eventually revealing additional layers that muddy the water. Even just a straight dramatic performance is on the table. The meta side of his persona allows for a lot of latitude. And you can bet they’re eager to utilize it.

Sympathy for the Devil begins with David Chamberlain (Joel Kinnaman, credited as The Driver) driving to see his wife in the delivery room. Upon arriving at the hospital, before he can get out of the car, The Passenger (Nicolas Cage) gets into the backseat, and orders him at gunpoint to drive. Initially, he gives the shocked David no instruction other than “watch your speed”, but eventually claims they’re going to visit his mother in the hospital. That lie is revealed soon after when he guns down a cop who dares pull them over for speeding. In due time, he reveals his belief that David is actually someone he knew back in Boston who wronged him, and he intends to deliver David into the hands of his associates.

This is a pretty intimate, slow thriller, and will likely try the patience of many watching. The first thirty-five minutes or so of this ninety minute movie barely leave the car, with the one exception being a short (but somewhat tense) scene at a gas station. The conversation centers around David trying to convince The Passenger to leave him alone, to take sympathy on him and his family, and trying to figure out what in the hell the plan is and if he’ll ever make it home. Meanwhile, The Passenger seems to have a good idea of how David is going to plead for his life and safety, as if he’s done this many times before and has heard it all. He keeps talking about Boston, asking if David’s ever been there, and intercuts it all with brief bursts of anger that make us feel like there’s a boiling rage behind that cool exterior. Adding to the tension is the repeated phone calls David is getting from his wife, which is especially concerning giving that we earlier heard her complain over the phone of an especially long and painful labor. Of course, The Passenger only lets David answer the phone once, in order to raise his (and our) anxiety, and so he can get her room number to increase his leverage.

But it’s all a little flat. Kinneman isn’t bad, and Cage is doing a Whole Ass Thing, but there just isn’t much chemistry between the two. I kept thinking of Locke, in which Tom Hardy is driving alone in his car for literally the whole film, and yet is more captivating and dynamic. Maybe it’s that Kinnaman is too much of a cipher, maybe it’s that Cage is not going enough over the top, maybe it’s just that the conversation is too mundane. But I found my attention drifting, a rare occurrence for me during a film that’s not outright bad. I think it’s also due to the premise not being enough to carry a whole movie. Yeah, it’s kinda freaky, and you spend the first bit trying to figure out what exactly is going on, keeping you engaged. However, once you learn just a bit more about The Passenger and his motives, it all becomes clear and the movie’s plot can really only play out one way: there’s a second, far more boring option, so you’ll quickly discount it. But the movie keeps dragging it out, stringing you along when you already know the answer.

What about Cage? Let me start with his accent. Oh boy, that accent. It’s like nothing I’ve ever heard before. I spent ten minutes trying to place it before he started talking about Boston. Listen, I’m from the Boston area, lived just outside the city for most of my twenties, have a bit of a Boston accent myself. That is not a Boston accent. It’s not New York either, despite him mentioning Brooklyn later. Maybe he was aiming for a hybrid of the two, but instead of landing in Connecticut, he landed somewhere on the Moon.

As for the level of Cage we get, it’s pretty solid, although not maximum. His hair is dyed red (a fascinating combo with his brown circle beard), he’s wearing a red smoking jacket over a black t-shirt, and he does have occasional entertaining outbursts. His line reading of “Sit the fuck. Back. Dowwwwwwwwwwnnnnnnnnnn.” is perfectly bonkers. Even some of his smaller moments include some absolutely bananas actions and lines. He never quite goes full bore, but he’s good at making you expect it throughout. The quiet insanity leads to some good humor, both intentional and not. Just not as much as you’d want from a movie like this.

There are some good instincts here, a couple brief moments that look like subversions (until they’re not). But it’s not distinct enough, not wild enough, not contemplative enough to really hit. While it might generate some new Cage memes, it’s middling at best. However, it does have some good moments, including a pretty solid ending which doesn’t so much subvert expectations as portray them in a fairly interesting way. So while you likely won’t regret seeing it, there’s no need to rush.