Mud Review | Old-school Story Told Well Is a Breath of Fresh Air


Orlando Lens
By Nicholas Ware

I have been hinting in posts all month that I have some nice things to say about Mud, the new Matthew McConaughey film that recently showed as part of the Florida Film Festival and starts its regular run at the Enzian today. I do. So let's get to them.

Mud is the kind of film that is becoming rarer and rarer in today's movie marketplace. It hearkens back to the 70s and 80s when there were plenty of mainstream films with a literary sensibility built around tried-and-true narrative tropes. In the case of Mud we have a coming-of-age story mixed with a little bit of Southern grime. While the film is named after McConaughey's character, the center of the film is Ellis (Tye Sheridan), a 14-year-old son of a river fisherman whose parents' crumbling marriage is one symptom of the larger, tougher changes in the world around him. Ellis and his best friend Neckbone (in a sly turn by young Jacob Lofland) hear a rumor of an abandoned boat stuck in a tree on an island in the river, and seek it out as a treasure of their own. They end up finding Mud living in the boat on the lam from the law after murdering a man in a quarrel over his on-again off-again true love, Juniper (Reese Witherspoon). Ellis, wanting very much to believe in the pureness of Mud's feelings for Juniper, convinces Neckbone to help Mud repair the boat so that he and Juniper can head to the Caribbean, and safety.

Witherspoon, arguably a bigger star than McConaughey, is given the most thankless of the major roles, and unfortunately doesn't do much to elevate Juniper. If there is one justifiable criticism of Mud that is sadly true it's that the film values the work and lives of men far more than those of women. The three largest female roles; Juniper, Ellis's mother, and May Pearl, an older teen who is the object of Ellis's affection; all prove to be unreliable or disloyal, while many of the male characters are lionized for their valor, determination, and self-sacrifice. This can be somewhat mitigated by imaging the film as encompassing Ellis's viewpoint, but some alternate, more fair portrayal of women would have been appreciated.

What Mud does best is nail a Twain-esque down-the-river working class intelligence, where clever is never mistaken for smart but valued, as it rightly should be, in a community where it has more use. Mud is a hustler, a criminal by choice and partially by nature, but also a good friend, and as Ellis grows close to him it's almost as if the film is an alternate version of Huckleberry Finn if Injun Joe had the courage and heart of Jim. Michael Shannon and Sam Shepard give equally charismatic turns in their supporting roles, and the combination of a wonderfully scouted and filmed location along with the fine acting makes the world of Mud feel very much alive.



In its final act, Mud devolves slightly into a series of perilous situations designed to get an audience biting its nails over the characters they have grown to love, and while this move may seem a little broad and populist, it fits strongly with the broad, populist, and brilliant Twain influence. A coming-of-age tale and a potboiler, Mud is a rarity among both Hollywood and independent film-making: a straight-forward, fully entertaining, emotionally-engaging modest story. Things get exciting without getting over-the-top, and heart strings are tugged without being clawed at. Hollywood and the indie world both seem to pride style over substance--in very different ways--but Mud is a reminder that genuine substance is a style in itself.

Mud opens today at the Enzian. Rated PG-13 for some violence, sexual references, language, thematic elements, and smoking. Run time 2 hours 10 minutes.





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