Bertrand Tavernier’s In the Electric Mist (2009) has the allure of a lost gem. It is an old-fashioned detective story with some unique elements that is deeply arresting.
Dave Robicheaux (Tommy Lee Jones) is a recovering alcoholic detective in post-Katrina New Iberia who is investigating a series of murders. He is haunted by the image of a black man being lynched in the swamp in 1965. He is visited by ghosts of confederate soldiers. As it often turns out in such stories, the seemingly separate threads are all connected.
The film has a complicated history that made it little-seen by audiences when it came out. Creative differences between director and producers led to the film being taken away from Tavernier and cut down to a 104 minute version and released straight to DVD in the states and in the UK, a fate that was undeserved despite the end product’s shortcomings (this is the version being reviewed here). The director managed to release his own version (running at 117 minutes) widely in Europe and has been quoted as being happy with such a compromise. One day I aim to see the director’s cut, however, much of the American version’s muted brilliance can be unmistakably credited to his vision as well.
The direction makes the film engaging from the very first frame and speaks of notable complexity. Tavernier’s style – alternating between elegant crane shots and deceptively simple setups – is strongly aided by cinematographer Bruno de Keyzer and editors Larry Madaras and Roberto Silvi (the French version was edited by Thierry Derocles). It is simultaneously fluid and grounded, aesthetical, yet pared down. Combining his technical arsenal with the well-chosen locations Tavernier assembles a swamp-soaked, mosquito-bit, lingeringly lush and misty atmosphere without ever tipping his hand or making it seem unreal. It gave me a palpable sense of the setting while I also had an inkling that in the vastness of the elements there is something unseen, that might be transcendental. Marco Beltrami’s powerful score builds up a sense of topographical and aural history in just a few strokes. In this vision of Louisiana that feels authentic yet cinematic, the shadows of the past are always lurking and constantly shaping the present and the dead inhabit the locus just as much as the living.
Robicheaux has a deep connection with the dead. Despite not finding out much about his backstory, there is a weight to him that suggests he has been touched by fate many times. He has long lost all naïveté without regressing into easy cynicism or the nihilist barbarism of his surroundings. He does use violence and bends the rules to achieve his goals, but rarely without a sense of guilt. What distinguishes him from other similar rogue detectives is his strong relation to the place he inhabits and the people who surround him (family, associates). He does not display any of the alienated macho angst of urban (post)modernity. This is the place where he was born, and where he will most likely rest.
The screenplay, adapted from James Lee Burke’s novel by Jerzy Kromolowski and Mary Olson-Kromolowski, is effectively focusing on character and milieu while also providing an engaging plot and great dialogue, at least until the third quarter of the runtime, where the pace becomes rushed, the events pile up confusingly and loose ends gather under the sad willow trees. There is little doubt that the producers’ interference – although made for a tighter film – has overall harmed the effect. There is still plenty to suggest the potential of the extended version.
Tommy Lee Jones, switching from his robust Texan dialect to the more mellow intonation of one southern state further to the east is very much in his element as a stoic and tough detective. His earthiness helps us take seriously the more outlandishly surreal scenes and his softness that is only hidden skin deep makes him very relatable, while his simmering rage keeps us in suspense.
The film is chock-full of other memorable characters played by terrific actors. John Goodman is practically oozing sleaze as Julie “Baby Feet” Balboni, the bigshot criminal venturing into movies. Peter Sarsgaard is beautifully pathetic as drunk movie star Elrod Sykes. Kelly McDonald, Mary Steenburgen and Pruitt Taylor Vince also make an impression in just a few scenes.
Multiple aspects of the investigation remain shrouded in mystery as if to suggest that the enemy is invisible and something much larger than one perpetrator. The guilty are hiding but their crimes are so far-reaching in time and space that they practically form the tapestry of New Iberia. Robicheaux is one man who does what he can against seemingly insurmountable odds, but the strength of his resolve gives such a fight its meaning.
Rating: 72%
Ágoston's Film Odyssey 