Post by joekiddlouischama on Apr 19, 2024 6:48:47 GMT
LaRoy, Texas is a low-key independent film that provides irony, thoughtfulness, and entertainment. Set in Texas yet shot in New Mexico (as the keen visual observer can tell from a fleeting shot or two of distant mountains), the movie's satirical nature is evident in its casting of John Magaro as the protagonist, a nondescript floor manager mistaken for a hired killer. Soft-featured, chubby, and amiably indolent, Magaro is about the last man who would possibly be chosen for such a role, yet the mistake allows for a humanistic exploration of character and life. Improbably married to a glamorous ex-beauty queen (Megan Stevenson), Magaro's closest personal relationships soon unravel to reveal duplicity and betrayal. But if this kind of satirical plot might seem a tad familiar, what separates LaRoy, Texas is its assured pacing and the consistency of its ironic tone. This movie is never in a hurry, and while it serves mainly as an enjoyable, engrossing entertainment piece, its pacing and directorial steadiness enable it to expose—without exposition or sentimentality—moral lessons about dignity and self-worth, initiative and genuineness.
In this regard, the character played by Steve Zahn proves ironically instructive. As Magaro's Ray states at one point, Zahn's Skip is "a joke"—essentially a fumbling amateur private detective trying to be a professional, all the while dressed like a cowboy. But Skip also is what he wants to be: he is genuine, honest, and upfront, without pretension or deception, and he easily recognizes dishonesty and superficiality, something that Ray struggles to see. The result is a wayward partnership that proves funny and tragically cathartic.
Profiting from letter-perfect casting (including Dylan Baker as the actual assassin), LaRoy, Texas could be characterized as a buddy movie, a road movie, and a caper, but it resists the clichés of those genres. Instead, writer-director Shane Atkinson shows an awareness of archetypes and Americana while creating a movie that falls upon the viewer like something fresh out of left field. It is quite a "good" film, one that entertains while providing human and thematic substance as well.
In this regard, the character played by Steve Zahn proves ironically instructive. As Magaro's Ray states at one point, Zahn's Skip is "a joke"—essentially a fumbling amateur private detective trying to be a professional, all the while dressed like a cowboy. But Skip also is what he wants to be: he is genuine, honest, and upfront, without pretension or deception, and he easily recognizes dishonesty and superficiality, something that Ray struggles to see. The result is a wayward partnership that proves funny and tragically cathartic.
Profiting from letter-perfect casting (including Dylan Baker as the actual assassin), LaRoy, Texas could be characterized as a buddy movie, a road movie, and a caper, but it resists the clichés of those genres. Instead, writer-director Shane Atkinson shows an awareness of archetypes and Americana while creating a movie that falls upon the viewer like something fresh out of left field. It is quite a "good" film, one that entertains while providing human and thematic substance as well.