Movies & Film Writing Sample - Los Angeles, CA

If there’s one thing to be said for Alpha Dog, the new film inspired by the true story of how Jesse James Hollywood became one of the youngest people ever to appear on the FBI’s ten most-wanted list, it’s that it’s not what you expect.

Considering that the movie fictionally recounts a well-documented 72-hour period in the summer of 2000 that was set in motion when an escalating feud between a Southern California drug dealer and a friend-cum-debtor resulted in the former kidnapping the latter’s teenage stepbrother and holding him as collateral before the situation spun senselessly out of hand, one could easily imagine Alpha Dog as a taut, by-the-numbers crime drama that unfolds rhythmically by the propulsion of its own incidents, ever-building in intensity until it reaches an inevitably explosive climax.  Not only does this description not fit what Alpha Dog is in reality, it seems—at least for the majority of the film’s running time—as though writer-director Nick Cassavetes has gone out of his way to make sure it doesn’t.  If nothing else (and there are other things to admire about the movie), I admire his intentions.

As unfair to him as it may be, it is difficult to watch a film directed by Cassavetes without being aware of similarities in approach (or lack thereof) to that of his father, American independent cinema pioneer John Cassavetes.  The elder Cassavetes’ works are defined by their freewheeling, improvisational style and a narrative structure that could be described as “meandering” in the best sense possible.  Nick’s directing career to this point has included films that range from being undeniably reminiscent of his father’s work (1997’s She’s So Lovely) (an inevitable comparison in that the movie was based on a script by John) to more standard Hollywood fare that shows almost no indication of the director’s heritage (2004’s The Notebook) (the casting of Gena Rowlands notwithstanding).  With Alpha Dog, Cassavetes has for the most part resisted the temptation of genre trappings in favor of a loose, conversational method of storytelling that appears to be more interested in the characters involved in the film’s central crime than in the crime itself.  In short, he has made a John Cassavetes contemporary crime drama…and the ultimate result is problematic for a couple of reasons.  First, (and again, I acknowledge the total unfairness of comparing the filmmaker to his father) Nick Cassavetes is not John Cassavetes; second (and this is the much more serious flaw), the characters committing the crime in Alpha Dog are not nearly as interesting as the crime itself.

During the writing of Alpha Dog, Cassavetes was given unprecedented access to the FBI files on Jesse James Hollywood (given that Hollywood was still at large while the movie was in production in 2004, prosecutors hoped that it might prove helpful in leading to his capture); as a result, the final product seems to leave no stone unturned as it details the whos, whats, wheres and whens of the incidents that led up to the aforementioned crime, the crime itself as it took place over its three-day span, and its aftermath.  For the purposes of the film, Jesse James Hollywood has been reimagined as the similarly unlikely-named Johnny Truelove (Emile Hirsch), a twenty-year-old Los Angeles-area drug dealer who rules his posse of underlings that includes Frankie Ballenbacher (Justin Timberlake), Elvis Schmidt (Shawn Hatosy) and Tiko “TKO” Martinez (Fernando Vargas) not through physical intimidation (like his real-life counterpart, Truelove is depicted as diminutive in comparison to just about everyone around him) but by lording over them the fact that he’s the one who’s got all the money—and, by association, the power (and, allegedly—though it’s only in very much a relative sense—the brains).  Truelove and his crew spend their days and nights intermittently lifting weights, playing video games, and watching gangsta rap videos as they drink, fling accusations of homosexuality at one another and smoke copious amounts of Truelove’s flagship product, marijuana.  Cassavetes deserves his due for portraying this lifestyle from a fly-on-the-wall perspective that allows the viewer to cast his or her own judgments, but on the flipside, such a tactic makes it difficult to initially care about any of the characters beyond being cursorily amused (if entertained at all) by their lackadaisical antics.

“Lackadaisical” is certainly not a term that applies to Jake Mazursky (Ben Foster), a drug-addled loose cannon whose introduction into Alpha Dog kicks the story into gear.  As played by Foster in what is undeniably the film’s most enjoyable scenery-chewing performance (in contrast to Sharon Stone’s portrayal of Mazursky’s stepmother, which is equally showy but a complete drag to endure), Jake is an “outer circle” associate of Truelove who gets himself on his bad side when he fails to cover a debt.  A violent altercation over this matter gives way to a prolonged tit-for-tat battle (one reports the other to his probation officer for a drug violation, the other responds by defecating on one’s living room floor, et al) that culminates in an entirely accidental opportunity for Truelove and his crew to kidnap Mazursky’s fifteen-year-old stepbrother, Zack (played by Anton Yelchin in a performance that is as pitch-perfectly natural as Foster’s is entertainingly overcranked)—an opportunity that they are at first more than happy to seize.

From here, Cassavetes’ film becomes focused on examining how what was essentially a childish game devolved into tragedy, and the casualness of the events depicted is mirrored by the casualness of the filmmaker’s manner of storytelling, neither betraying until shortly before the climax just how far off the rails this train will go.  From start to finish, the director maintains his objective viewpoint, allowing the plot to unfold as naturally as possible…but this aesthetic choice, however well-intended, becomes increasingly detrimental to the film.  The introduction of major characters into the story is handled in essentially the same happenstance way as that of extras, and with a half-dozen or more people often filling the frame (well over forty characters are singled out at one point or another, most of them being highlighted as future witnesses in the FBI’s case with a freeze-frame-and-count-off treatment that is somewhat at odds with Cassavetes’ clear desire to make Alpha Dog a “people over plot” movie), sorting out who’s important, who’s run their course and exactly where certain individuals are going to and coming from becomes a chore for the viewer, one that carries diminishing returns.  (One upside to Cassavetes’ “now you see them, now you don’t” handling of characters is that Hirsch’s Truelove—arguably the least interesting major character and played by arguably the least compelling actor—all but disappears for a good chunk in the middle of the film; a big downside is that Foster’s Mazursky goes MIA for even longer.)

It will no doubt surprise more than a few skeptics to learn that, once the central storyline of the kidnapping is underway, one actor comes forward to carry the movie…and that actor is none other than former boy-bander and current pop music superstar Justin Timberlake, making his feature film debut in Alpha Dog (since it went straight to video, I’ll do Timberlake the favor of not counting the mercifully little-known Edison Force on his resume).  After he is put in charge of Zack—who becomes an almost voluntary hostage once he gets caught up in the raucous, booze-drugs-and-girls atmosphere of his captors’ party-hopping trip to Palm Springs—Timberlake’s Frankie emerges as the film’s moral center as he takes Zack under his wing and genuinely bonds with him, struggles with his loyalty to Truelove compared to his sense of what’s right, and is ultimately forced to make a horrible decision once it becomes clear the situation has passed the point of no return for all parties involved.  The relationship between Frankie and Zack constitutes the heart of Alpha Dog and not only would the film be not worth seeing without it, it would have benefited greatly from more of it…or at least more that was like it.

As previously alluded to, the climax of the movie is truly gut-wrenching, but its effect is diminished—and promptly so—by Cassavetes’ decision to follow it with a needlessly protracted coda that throws the viewer back in with some of the film’s least interesting characters as it details the kidnapping’s aftermath.  Curiously enough, this he-said-she-said, just-the-facts epilogue is probably more in line with what most people will expect Alpha Dog to be going in (it’s definitely what the marketing of the movie wants you to think it is)…and while it certainly doesn’t serve as the best example of what the film could have been, its contribution stands as a lingering reminder (somewhat to my own surprise, I must admit) that just because a movie isn’t what you expect, that’s not necessarily a good thing.


© 2007 J5K


Alpha Dog is a Universal Pictures release of a Sidney Kimmel Entertainment presentation of a VIP Medienfonds 2 and A-Mark Films production.  Produced by Kimmel, Chuck Pacheco.  Executive producers: Marina Grasic, Andreas Grosch, Jan Korbelin, Andreas Schmid, Steve Markoff, Robert Geringer, Avram Butch Kaplan.  Co-producers: Matthew Barry, Nancy Green-Keyes.  Directed, written by Nick Cassavetes.

WITH:  Ben Foster (Jake Mazursky), Shawn Hatosy (Elvis Schmidt), Emile Hirsch (Johnny Truelove), Christopher Marquette (Keith Stratten), Justin Timberlake (Frankie Ballenbacher), Anton Yelchin (Zack Mazursky), Lukas Haas (Buzz Fecske), Alex Kingston (Tiffy Hartunian), Harry Dean Stanton (Cosmo Gadabeeti), Dominique Swain (Susan Hartunian), David Thornton (Butch Mazursky), Heather Wahlquist (Wanda Haynes), Vincent Kartheiser (Pick Giaimo), Alex Solowitz (Bobby “911”), Fernando Vargas (Tiko “TKO” Martinez), Olivia Wilde (Angela Holden), Sharon Stone (Olivia Mazursky) and Bruce Willis (Sonny Truelove).