The Last Rodeo, from Angel Studios

There is probably no more annoying expression than “this isn’t my first rodeo,” because most of the people who say it have never even been to a rodeo. This is definitely not Joe Wainwright’s first rodeo, but considering the state of his beat-up, broken-down fifty-years-plus body, it could very well be his final hurrah—period. However, he is not doing it for glory or vanity. He risks life and limb for family in Jon Avnet’s The Last Rodeo, which release tomorrow in theaters, from Angel Studios.

Wainwright is a former three-time bull-riding champion. Unfortunately, he did not walk away from his last ride. He was carried. In many ways, Wainwright’s life is like a country song. His beloved wife died, leading him to recklessly drink and bull-ride, which nearly killed him. However, his devoted grown daughter Sally helped patch him back together. In the years since, he has been sober and a model grandfather. Consequently, when young Cody is diagnosed with a rare and precariously positioned brain tumor, he takes it as hard as his daughter.

Their insurance will not cover the entire cost of the surgery (which quickly turns into surgeries), but the national bull-riding championship is scheduled for the coming weekend. Technically, all past champions are invited to appear. Of course, nobody expects them to compete and Wainwright never bothered to reply, but he can’t think of any better options. So, Wainwright convinces his old friend, trusted “bull-fighter,” and fellow Afghanistan vet Charlie Williams to help him mount his sudden comeback.

Sure, The Last Rodeo probably sounds predictable, but the same can be said for most films. Regardless, this is definitely a character study. Avnet and his co-screenwriter star, Neal McDonough show viewers what it is like for cowboys when age catches up with them. Rugged masculinity faces a tough challenge when faced with mortality. However, Avnet and McDonough still celebrate Wainwright for fighting the good fight.

In fact, Last Rodeo is notable and laudable for spotlighting three recognizable character actors in prime feature spots. McDonough has always been a reliably steely or flamboyantly villainous supporting player, but Angel has given him well-deserved opportunities as a leading man (following-up on Homestead). This could be his career-best performance, powerfully embodying Wainwright’s physical toughness and the painful feelings he has trouble expressing.

Wetlands: Getting Noirish on the Jersey Shore

Let’s take an outing to Atlantic City, where the surfing is mediocre and Trump lost dumpster trucks full of money in the casino business. Signing on with the police force wouldn’t be much of a career move for a former hotshot Philadelphia cop, but Babel “Babs” Johnson was lucky to get the gig. He wants to rebuild his life, but rampant corruption and a brewing storm do not cooperate in Emanuele Della Valle’s Wetlands (trailer here), which opens today in New York.

We never learn what precisely went down in Philly, but it obviously involved drugs. Johnson is now clean-ish and used the last of his connections to join the AC force, in order to be near Amy, the daughter he lost all visitation rights for. His ex-wife Savanah will not cut him any slack, even though she is still a hot mess party girl herself. Frankly, her lesbian lover, “Surfer Girl,” represents the only stability in Amy’s life, even though she also happens to be pushing drugs on the beach for the local syndicate.

Johnson wants to shut their operation down, but his mobbed-up chief won’t have any of that. He sort of has an ally in his new partner, compulsive gambler Paddy Sheehan, but it is Sheehan’s wife, news anchor Kate, who is really in Johnson’s corner (and in his bed). Naturally, everything comes to a head as the storm of the century of the year bears down on the Jersey shore.

Wetlands is part noir and part character study, but all kinds of moody. Frankly, the Johnson family soap opera gets a little tiresome after the fiftieth awkward encounter between the cop, his ex-wife, and her girlfriend. However, Della Valla earns credit for drawing some vivid characters. Adewale Akinnouye-Agbaje is always tightly restrained and inner-focused as Johnson, but his angst-ridden performance is often downright harrowing to behold. Heather Graham de-glams more than she ever has prior as the earthy ex-wife. As always, it is great fun to watch Christopher MacDonald do his roguish thing—and a cat like Det. Sheehan is dead-smack in the center of his power zone. Yet, it is Jennifer Ehle who is a revelatory scene-stealer as the disillusioned but still seductive Kate Sheehan.

There are plot holes bigger than the former Trump Taj Mahal in Wetlands, but we can overlook them for the sake of watching Akinnouye-Agbaje play off MacDonald and Ehle. Della Valle also captures the eerie calm feeling as a major storm approaches. This film will definitely bring back memories of the lead up to Sandy and the weirdly uncertain aftermath, at least amongst those who fortunately were not seriously impacted. It is definitely ragged around the edges, but Wetlands is still worth checking out eventually, but feel safe in waiting for less expensive VOD options. Recommended down the road for Jersey Noir fans, Wetlands opens today (9/15) in New York, at the Landmark Sunshine downtown and the AMC Empire in Midtown.

The Crash: Hacking the Markets to Save the Markets

As a private citizen, J.P. Morgan quelled the Panic of 1907 and basically saved the American financial system. In 1910, he participated in the Jekyll Island meetings that ultimately led to the creation of the Federal Reserve, so he wouldn’t have to go through that hassle again. Ever since then, the Fed has been the focus of conspiracy theories from the right and the left. Fuel will be added to the Occupy-Birchian flames when Aram Rappaport’s The Crash (trailer here) opens this Friday in New York.

The markets have been hacked—all of them, even the Miami MIAX. Thanks to the gloating terrorist chatter, the Treasury Department knows they only have a few days to avert a market meltdown. Out of desperation, Sec. Sarah Schwab (now there's a financial name) cuts a deal with bad boy money man Guy Clifton to save our butts. He was once the golden boy for bailing out the city of Chicago, but he is currently facing prosecution for hacking the NYSE, which indeed he did.

Of course, he didn’t do it alone. With the government’s blessing, Clifton recruits the same team of programmers, coders, and magical typists to put together a similar operation, but on a grander scale. Technically, it often his wife Shannon who does the recruiting, because many of his former associates are not too keen to work with him again. She is not thrilled with him either, but it would not help their critically ill daughter Creason’s survivability chances if her father went to prison.

We quickly learn the mastermind behind all the hacks is none other than Fed Chairman Del Banco (his name is literally “the Bank”), his own oily self, in cahoots with the big banks that took bailout money. In fact, the whole scheme is really TARP II. The bailed-out banks will short everything including the kitchen sink leading up to the crash, after which they will bargain hunt like mad. In return, they agree to keep interest rates low and credit flowing. It is an intriguing scheme that arguably makes the film hard to pigeon-hole in traditional right-left terms. It is also great fun to watch the reliably entertaining Christopher McDonald chew the scenery as Del Banco.

Proving good guys can be colorful too, Frank Grillo and Minnie Driver share some terrific tart-tongued chemistry as Guy and Shannon Clifton. They are almost Nick & Nora-like. However, the whole subplot involving the terminally ill daughter (who naturally starts a relationship with Clifton’s resentful ex-protégé is needlessly manipulative). John Leguizamo is just cringe-inducing as the wheelchair bound cyber-jockey George Diebold (just like the voting machines) and Maggie Q is scandalously wasted as his long-suffering nurse.

In the closing titles, The Crash reminds us there has been a financial crisis approximately every ten years since the Fed was established. That is technically true, but aside from the Great Depression, we haven’t seen bank runs and chaos like the Panic of 1907 since then. Regardless, Grillo, Driver, and McDonald elevate the paranoid LaRouche-Democracy Now subject matter. It is sort of all over the place, but it is always watchable. For fans of Paul Erdman thrillers (whose faults it shares), The Crash opens this Friday (1/13) in New York, at the Cinema Village.