Focus

Neil Slavin’s only film as director is 2001′s Focus, a film based on the Arthur Miller novel of the same name. Slavin brought Kendrew Lascelles, who went on to write 2004′s The Aryan Couple, on board to help turn the Miller novel into a screenplay. The film covers elements of 1944 Brooklyn during a time in which anti-Semitism ran deep on the streets, despite the Nazi threat looming a world away in World War II. People everywhere appear to be afraid of some sort of Jewish threat and the paranoia runs high throughout the neighbourhood. Into this equation comes our protagonist, Lawrence Newman (William H. Macy).

Newman is a quiet man that tends to blend seamlessly in with his surroundings, often unnoticed. All that changes one day, however, when Newman gets a new pair of glasses that we’re told make him look “Jewish.” This very strange critique suddenly blossoms to deplorable heights, as Newman’s life is turned upside down by the glaring eyes and haunting moments directed at him and his newfound “Jewish” look. Newman associates frequently with a store owner on his street corner, Finklestein (David Paymer), who is Jewish in reality and not just in bespectacled mistaken identity. Their bond, which is tentative and awkward at first, strengthens as both men get acquainted with the idea of prejudice and the fears associated with the hollow minds of angry white men.

To add to the facade of Jewishness, Newman eventually marries Gertrude (Laura Dern). We are told through the eyes of the prejudiced that Gertrude appears “Jewish” as well. This seemingly obvious stroke of illusionary logic affects everyone on Newman’s block in Brooklyn, especially his neighbour Fred (Meat Loaf Aday). As events begin to spiral out of control and Newman’s garbage can is tossed over each night, Newman must come face to face with the prejudice he feels as a result of mistaken identity. He somewhat learns a lesson towards the end of the film, but his attitude is reminiscent of the ideology of those who choose to do “nothing” in the face of fear and prejudice until it affects them directly.

The critical problem I had with Focus was the script. It seemed almost laughable at times, caught up in its own attempts to capture Arthur Miller’s relentless solemnity. As the events spin out of control and Newman’s reactions to these events become bookishly angry, there are some bizarre lines tossed around by Lascelles’ script that don’t seem to bounce properly. Instead, when Macy’s Newman blurts out, suddenly, “But we’re not Jewish,” I half expected him to follow it up by saying “Not that there’s anything wrong with that!”

Silly script aside, the search for meaning and poignancy within Focus turned up little, if anything. While some scenes involving William H. Macy turned out well (it’s hard for him to be completely disappointing), the overall story arc contained very little of the punch or vitriol it so desperately needed to be powerful as a film. Instead, much of Focus falls flat under swirling narratives involving a variety of characters that are interloped because of “prejudice.” This turns a once-subtle film into a blisteringly obvious and oblivious bore of a film that can easily and gently be filed under other sorts of “indie darling” pictures that seem to garner more praise than they’re actually worth.

One thing the film toyed with nicely was the ideology of xenophobia that can run any country into the ground. The preacher’s ranting and railing against “internationalism” is a dangerously compelling segment to the film, as the nationalists rally around him and gather up their white heat to take it to the streets and “reclaim their country” from the “internationalists.” This revelatory segment of the film started to rouse me somewhat as I began to capture some semblance of a vision, but it was quickly averted when, once again, the plot was distinctively narrowed down and the potential was once again left simmering on the proverbial stove. The message in the film, when it arrived, was hammered down with a piece of filmmaking so obvious and tacit that it was hard to watch without snickering.

In the case of Focus, it’s really a matter of too little impact within a decently constructed framework. The direction is capable enough and some of the performances are passable, although I struggled with Laura Dern as Gertrude extensively and the romantic scenes seemed strange and awkward (not in the intended way, either). The chemistry between characters appeared forced and tepid and any explosiveness of logic or firewater within Focus seemed utterly wasted by an overly subdued protagonist with too little to do at a juncture far beyond the point of interest.