Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?
Director Sam Raimi does, as he follows a trio who reveal their true, twisted natures when given the chance to make off with ill-gotten money.
A plane crashes deep in the dark, snowy woods, and now it sits as a potential prize, with just a dead pilot and $4.4 million in cash aboard.
But things never go nicely in noir — old school or neo — and the lure of a new life financed by what turns out be ransom money opens the gates of Hell for our heroes.
Everyone will burn.
“I like them French-fried pertaters.”
I’m teaching my nephews it’s always amusing if they sidle up behind their mom when she’s cooking, drop their voice down low, then imitate Karl Childers ordering fries.
Well, it’s amusing to me, at least.
When they’re older, they can see where that dialogue sprang from. For now, they just need the words.
The film remains today as it did in ’96 — a beautifully-crafted gothic tale of redemption anchored by a career-making performance from Billy Bob Thornton.
It’s more, much more, than the French fry scene.
But that is a pretty dang good scene. Just sayin’.
A reckoning is coming.
Four years before Sling Blade, Billy Bob Thornton co-wrote, and played the nastiest bad guy in, this consistently-surprising lil’ slice of neo noir.
Leaving bodies in their wake, a trio of criminals depart the bright lights of the big city and head for small-town Arkansas, where sheriff Dale Dixon (Bill Paxton) waits.
The only law in a small dot on the map, he is condescended to by LAPD detectives, but Dixon’s good ol’ boy exterior masks a first-rate cop, albeit it one with his fair share of secrets.
An early-’90s gem which hasn’t dulled a bit.