In Brooklyn, unassuming Bob Saginowski (Tom Hardy) tends bar
for his Cousin Marv (James Gandolfini), the former owner who was pushed out by
ruthless Chechen gangsters. The bar occasionally serves an underworld money
drop, and a recent robbery leaves the Chechens angry and suspicious. Meanwhile,
Bob finds himself caring for an abused and abandoned puppy brought to him by
the mysterious Nadia (Noomi Rapace). Though he is reluctant at first, Bob takes
to the dog, whom he dubs Rocco. Dog ownership brings Bob closer to Nadia, but
it also invites trouble in the form of Eric Deeds (Matthias Schoenaerts), Rocco’s
psychotic former owner.
Though modern Brooklyn has gentrified in recent years, the
borough remains a go-to backdrop for mean streets and shady doings. That The Drop would make use of this locale
is no surprise. That it would do it so well despite its pedigree is a bit of a
shocker. Writer Dennis Lehane, who adapted his short story “Animal Rescue” is a
diehard Bostonian while director Michael Roskam is a Belgian making his
American film debut. Add to that a cast led by an Englishman and a Swede, and
it’s amazing how convincing this film pulls off “the neighborhood.”
Of course, sense of place isn’t the only asset here. The
pacing is wonderfully taut with nary a wasted minute (at least until the last
five or so). Roskam’s camera work and Marco Beltrami’s score work to imbue
paranoid tension. Watching the goings-on leaves you with the unavoidable sense
that something terrible is going to happen, but Lehane’s story cleverly plays
with whom the audience expects to find in the crossfire.
This misdirection is made possible by Hardy’s complex,
layered performance. Like his idol Gary Oldman, Hardy has proven capable of
incredible transformation, and he slips seamlessly into his role here. We see
Bob as something of a laid-back loser, but we also know, through bits of
dialogue and pivotal gestures (he seems awfully handy with saran wrap) that
there is more to him than meets the eye.
Hardy is very nearly equaled by Gandolfini, who makes his
last performance a memorable one. At first, the bearded, balding Marv seems
like an anti-Tony Soprano, a washed-up schlub grubbing for lost respect.
However, the two characters actually have quite a bit in common. Like Tony,
Marv is a bad man made sympathetic by his generosity toward friends and family
and the presence of even worse people around him. And like Tony, Marv will lie,
scheme, and use violence for personal gain, all while still garnering his share
of apologists and defenders.
The remaining portrayals are somewhat less glowing. Rapace
gives Nadia some street smarts and mystique, but her accent slips to a
distracting degree. Schoenaerts plays Deeds like a pathetic-if-volatile mental
case rather than a classic bully, which makes him simultaneously easier to
believe and to dismiss. John Ortiz, the cast’s rare actual Brooklynite, plays
well off of Hardy as a sly detective who knows more than he lets on.
If there is one knock against The Drop, it is that it isn’t
transformative. It doesn’t deconstruct or rehabilitate the crime film or call
attention to the genre the way that Goodfellas
did, and there is an air of familiarity about it. It is less “epic” and more “story,”
but it is a story that is told nearly perfectly.
8.25/10
