[9]

Michael Fassbender (Shame, X-Men: First Class) stars as an El Paso lawyer who reaps the whirlwind when he tangles with Mexican drug lords in this Ridley Scott film penned by author Cormac McCarthy. McCarthy’s screenplay will test the patience of many. It contains an abundance of two-person dialogue scenes — one after the other for the entire first half of the film. All the action, tension, and dramatic high points are reserved for the second half of the story, when the shit hits the fan and all the characters’ worlds come crashing down in a gloriously tragic fashion.

The first time I saw The Counselor, I marginally liked it. The second time, I liked it much more — I can honestly say I love this movie now. But by all counts, I should hate it. All the characters are unlikable, rich, selfish pricks. The story is simple, but over-plotted and opaque enough to keep you in the dark even if you’re paying close attention. And who wants to hear characters wax philosophically for minutes on end — about self determination, free will, regret, human nature… I mean, how pretentious can you get? To say nothing of how ridiculously over-dressed everyone is. Ridley Scott styles this movie like a high-gloss corporate commercial. And why is Brad Pitt wearing a cowboy hat?

If I had to speculate about why this film connects with me, I’d say it’s for a few different reasons. I like being told a tragedy is about to unfold, almost daring you to watch — and then we descend straight into Hell. Fassbender’s character is warned by his friendly drug-dealing acquaintances, played by Javier Bardem and Brad Pitt, that once he makes the decision to become a cog in the cartels’ machine, he shouldn’t be surprised by whatever moral compromises or tragic consequences might ensue. But for twenty million dollars in profit, he moves forward. When the drug deal goes awry, the Mexican cartel becomes the all-seeing, inescapable Devil himself. None of the cast survives unscathed. More than one literally lose their heads.

I also love these actors. A lot. And since they’re all so good, they make the philosophical word salad and talking-head scenes far more interesting than they would be otherwise. Fassbender plays it real, but there’s a wink and a nod in the supporting casts’ performances. They all know they’re playing grotesque caricatures in an over-the-top modern day pulp crime story. Hence Pitt’s hat, Bardem’s microwaved hairdo, and Cameron Diaz’s tattooed cheetah spots (and two pet cheetahs). Bardem and Diaz are especially mesmerizing in this movie. Bardem’s character tells so many entertaining stories, one about the time his girlfriend, Diaz, straddled the windshield of his car and humped away. (“It was like one of those catfish things. One of those bottom feeders you see going up the side of the aquarium. Sucking its way up the glass. It was just…Hallucinatory.”) Diaz has never been more delightfully villainous, playing a morally bankrupt woman who double-crosses everyone. In the sinister world of The Counselor, she is the only character who wins.

While some may find the first half a bit of a slog, I thought it was interesting to piece together the exposition and finer plot points through the series of one-on-ones. I really didn’t mind all the talking — it was kind of a welcome relief from the whiplash, mindless action bullshit that litters the multiplex today. Does McCarthy indulge? Oh, for sure. A little of that highfalutin philosophizing goes a long way. Scott indulges, too, but his high-gloss approach seems appropriate in a darkly comedic way — the same way we humans try to cover our nasty, primal urges with the veneer of civilized decency. The film’s opening scene sets the stage, thematically and tonally, when Fassbender and his fiancée, played by Penelope Cruz, engage in some ‘dirty talk’ under their pure white bedsheets. It’s their first time doing such a ‘naughty’ thing and they enjoy it. It happens right before Fassbender takes the next slip on the slope toward depravity — participating in the drug trade.

The Counselor is an odd, uncommon film that breaks rules in ways I’d normally criticize. But I find it refreshing and beguiling, a beautiful, well-crafted film about temptation and humanity’s ever-repeating Fall from Grace, an exercise in — and an examination of — over-indulgence and the ruin that comes with it. I know it’s an unpopular opinion, but I love this film.

With Bruno Ganz, Rosie Perez, Ruben Blades, Natalie Dormer, and an uncredited John Leguizamo.