The Reel Critic: Foxcatcher

Director Bennett Miller’s third narrative feature, Foxcatcher (2014), employs a similar formula to his previous two, Capote (2005) and Moneyball (2011), which explore a real-life story about a powerful American man attempting to innovate in his field. In this case, Bennett chooses the story of John Eleuthère du Pont, a wealthy philanthropist who arbitrarily decided to convert his family’s estate, Foxcatcher Farms, into a state-of-the-art training facility for the U.S. national wrestling team. After years of sponsoring the team, including the former Olympic gold-medalist Schultz brothers, du Pont made headlines in 1996 for murdering Dave Schultz.

Foxcatcher is a psychological true-crime drama that culminates in the chilling crime from the 1996 headlines but spends the majority of its 134 minutes on the events precipitating that murder. It is a rare bit of cinema that cares more about how it gets there than where it gets. The film is, actually, quite nice to write about because it is impossible for me to spoil it for you. Its power comes from three exceptional performances and Bennett’s eerie, understated directorial flare, reminiscent of his work on Capote, as opposed to surprise plot points and special effects.

The film opens and ends with Mark Schultz (Channing Tatum), a mumbling solitary man struggling to make ends meet in the wake of his Olympic triumph. Baggy sweats inelegantly drape his chiseled body as he eats ramen noodles alone at his kitchen table and takes speaking gigs at elementary schools for twenty dollars. He lives in the shadow of his more outgoing and equally successful older brother Dave (Mark Ruffalo), who has adjusted to post-Olympic life with grace, having settled down with a wife and kids and landed coaching gigs around the country.

Mark Schultz takes advantage of an unexpected opportunity to regain some swagger when heir-to-fortune John du Pont (Steve Carell, unrecognizable) randomly propositions him to come to his 800-acre Pennsylvania estate and become the centerpiece of a wrestling team preparing for the 1988 Seoul Olympics. John is desperate to escape the shadow of his pompous mother (Vanessa Redgrave) and make a name for himself. He is a child in an adult’s body, disconnected from the world and quick to anger when things don’t go his way. How he landed on wrestling as an avenue to assert his independence is not obvious given his unfamiliarity with the sport, though its physicality seems to relate to John’s repressed sexuality.

There are noticeable parallels between Mark and John. Each live in isolation, prisoners of their respective economic circumstances and lacking the social skills to sustain relationships. They each struggle to meet the expectations associated with their last names and form an unsettling father-son, mentor-apprentice, boss-employee relationship. It’s unsettling namely because of the gross imbalance of power between the two. John exploits Mark for cheap labor. He takes advantage of Mark’s craving for attention and turns him to cocaine and alcohol, valuing his existence only to the extent that he is able to turn in wins on the wrestling mat. Perhaps more deceitful is the way John leverages his relationship with Mark to get what he really wants: Mark’s brother Dave.

Tragically and inevitably (and tragic because of its inevitability), Mark and Dave both eventually succumb to John’s wishes — they move to the estate and train at the facilities, a move which forever indebts them to John, at least in John’s eyes. Dave is a smart, friendly, thoroughly likeable guy who shows genuine care for his younger brother and a definite skill for coaching. His presence focuses Mark and seems to balance out the harm John has caused.

But in spite of his coaching prowess, and perhaps because of it, Dave’s presence ultimately threatens Du Pont’s control over Mark. In a particularly memorable scene, Dave is helping Mark lose twelve pounds in ninety minutes (!) to make weight for a match. Through Mark’s hazy, physically exhausted eyes we see John enter the room and try to get involved in Mark’s workout. Before he gets close, though, Dave intervenes, barring John from talking to Mark. It’s a fabulous moment in which the tension between the three of men is represented in an intimate and visceral way. It also emphasizes Mark’s vulnerability as the two main familial figures in his life vie for control over him.

The relationship triangle between these men is the crux of the film and the shifting of power over Mark from Dave to John and back to Dave paves the way for the crime on which the film is based. Bennett emphasizes distance throughout, using plenty of medium and wide shots and long takes to make the cold landscape of the estate feel unsettling and isolating. We also feel distance from John himself. Not only are his motivations fuzzy as a result of his apparent mental instability, but Steve Carell’s face is heavily obfuscated under mounds of makeup and a hooked nose that will haunt your dreams. We can’t relate to this character and now we don’t even recognize the actor playing this character.

Though Bennett’s commitment to distance leads to an emotional disconnect at times, it is effective in creating a world in which the characters and viewers feel simultaneously safe and disturbed. I promise you will be disappointed if you walk into the theater expecting a ‘thriller,’ in the literal sense of the genre, as it was unfortunately marketed. The film is a slog by any standards, let alone those established by fast-paced thrillers. But its deliberate pacing is worth it if you, the viewer, aren’t in a rush to get anywhere.