Blue Iguana: Sam Rockwell Gets Capery

Usually, Hope-level diamonds have disappointingly prosaic names, often referring to their place of origin. The “Pink Panther” is fictional, but the “Martian Pink” is a real enough outlier that sounds so romantic, you’d think jewel thieves would always be trying to steal it. The “Blue Iguana” is that kind of rock. It has already been stolen, so a motley crew of Yanks and Brits might as well steal it again in Hadi Hajaig’s Blue Iguana (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Just plain Eddie and his pal Paul Driggs should not even be allowed to travel to London, because they are parolees, but Katherine Rookwood can be very persuasive. She needs them for a simple hold-up job, but it gets complicated when somebody dies. It really wasn’t their fault—honest. However, both Rookwood and the Yanks both sort of double-cross each other, but at least she also prevents her gangster employer Arkady from putting a hit out on them, at no small financial cost to herself.

With nothing to show for their efforts so far, Rookwood, the Yanks, and their British accomplices decide to double-down on an even bigger score: the Blue Iguana. A Middle Eastern prince gave it to his hard-partying Euro wife, before giving her the boot. To get back into the royal family’s good graces, she needs to show the stone is safe and secure. Of course, she lost it long ago, but it looks like Arkady is planning to sell it back to her. Rookwood and company would like to fulfill that deal instead.

Despite a rather high body-count, Blue Iguana is a likable caper film that draws tremendous energy from its two leads. Granted, Eddie is rather gruff and grizzled, but he still represents an unusually light-comedic character for Sam Rockwell. Frankly, he seems to be enjoying the change of pace, but he is just as fully committed to the grumpy crook as he was to the snarling indie rogue’s gallery he is known for. Likewise, Phoebe Fox is just terrific as Rookwood, portraying her as a smart, mordant professional, who is also necessarily idiosyncratic—hence the company she keeps. Their scenes together crackle with electricity.

In contrast, a little of Ben Schwartz as Driggs the man-child goes a long way. It is also a bit disturbing to see Amanda Donohoe (from Lair of the White Worm) portraying the man-eating cougar mother of Arkady’s thuggish enforcer, who is the focus of some smarmy humor. However, the great Simon Callow classes up the joint in his scenes as Rookwood’s flamboyant criminal Uncle Martin.

A lot of fans will be very curious to see Rockwell in such a different context, so it is nice to be able to assure them that he does not disappoint. Hajaig wrote and helmed a breezy romp that actually skips over the Tarantino era, drawing inspiration from the uber-cool 1980s and the colorfully tacky 1970s (both of which were much more fun). It is a nice balance of attitude and nostalgia that should garner enthusiastic word-of-mouth. Recommended for caper movie fans, Blue Iguana opens this Friday (8/24) in New York, at the Village East.

A Single Shot: Sam Rockwell Goes Hunting

Call it a simple improvisation rather than a simple plan.  Nobody thinks too far ahead or particularly deeply in this criminal morality tale.  As a result, there is a mess of trouble for everyone in David M. Rosenthal’s roughly passable backcountry noir, A Single Shot (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

John Moon is an unemployed loser, whose wife Jess has filed for a divorce.  Aside from some occasional farm labor temp jobs, Moon mostly puts food on his table through hunting.  While stalking his game one fateful morning, Moon inadvertently kills a young woman squatting in the woods.  Attempting to cover-up the accidental shooting he discovers a large stash of cash.

Now Moon has enough money to retain Pitt, the town’s slimiest lawyer, and throw some look-I’m-not-a-deadbeat-money Jess’s way.  Of course, this is not exactly the best way to maintain a low profile.  Suddenly, he is on Cro-Magnon drug dealer Waylon’s radar, in a bad way.  Everyone else around him is also acting rather suspiciously, but Moon is not so quick on the up-take.

Shot has a number of moody and atmospheric scenes that work quite well, but the tension always dissipates rather than growing and compounding.  Perhaps the greatest problem is its dubious premise.  An experienced hunter would never fire off the reckless shot that ignites this film.  Someone like Moon, who has been hunting longer than Rosenthal has been making movies, knows never to pull the trigger unless you are absolutely certain of what you have in your sites.

Still, Rockwell is convincingly slow-witted yet simultaneously slow-burningly intense as Moon.  It is largely his work that will keep viewers invested in Shot, at least to some extent.  William H. Macy is rather amusing as Pitt, but he might as well be credited as a “special guest star.”  In contrast, the potentially interesting Jason Isaacs is completely wasted as Waylon, buried under a Wookie’s worth of greasy locks.

There are no big secrets or revelations in Shot, so despite some well executed bits of skullduggery, there is little suspense overall.  Basically, it is a bad idea to come between and drug dealer and his illicit cash.  Nor is it a winning strategy to pick a fight with an anti-social mountain man who lives and breathes hunting.  As a result, everyone learns something in Shot, except the audience, who come in way ahead of everyone on-screen.  Just sort of okay but not great, A Single Shot opens this Friday (9/20) in New York at the AMC Empire.