American Night – The film’s reach exceeding its grasp
Director: Alessio Della Valle
Cast: Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Jeremy Piven, Emile Hirsch, Paz Vega, Michael Madsen, Annabelle Belmondo
Cert: 15
Running time: 124 mins
The debut feature from writer-director Alessio Della Valle, this chaotic crime caper is clearly aiming for a Pulp Fiction vibe, right down to splitting the story into three parts and playing games with the timeline. However, the end result is something of a mixed bag, primarily due to a frustrating lack of focus.
The story centres on Andy Warhol’s famous “Pink Marilyn” painting. When his mob boss father dies, Michael Rubino (Emile Hirsch) becomes the new head of the crime family and is horrified to discover that his father has traded away the prized painting, despite having promised it to him ever since he was a child. Infuriated, Michael will stop at nothing to get it back, which means sending armed goons to intercept narcoleptic courier Shakey (Fortunato Cerlino), who’s been tasked with delivering it to its new owner.
However, after a shoot-out at the Dead Rockstars Diner (another Pulp Fiction nod), Shakey manages to stash the painting and it ends up in the possession of down-on-his-luck stuntman Vinny (Jeremy Piven), whose brother John Kaplan (Johnathan Rhys Myers) is both a famous art critic and a secret forger who’s in debt to art-loving mob boss Lord Morgan (Michael Madsen).
Things come to a head when art restorer Sarah Flores (Sex and Lucia’s Paz Vega) gets caught in the middle, both as Jonathan’s on-off girlfriend and as the only person to take a professional interest in Michael’s own artwork. Also involved is art dealer Katie (Annabelle Belmondo), who poses as Jonathan’s neighbour, but is secretly working for Michael.
The film’s biggest problem is that it’s all over the place. The three part structure serves no discernible purpose, and any plot points revealed by the fractured timeline conceit are either immediately guessable or of little to no consequence.
Worse, the story jumps around to an irritating degree, hampering narrative progression to such a point that it feels like none of the scenes are connected. On top of that, there are various character details that clearly intended to have some kind of dramatic or emotional payoff – such as Vinny’s penchant for blindfolded stunt work, or Shakey’s narcolepsy – but end up either getting completely forgotten or just sort of fizzling out.
The script has other problems too, in that it’s never entirely clear why we should care who ends up with the painting. It doesn’t help that Vega’s Sarah is the only remotely likeable character – indeed, it’s fair to say that the film could have been considerably improved by dropping the pointless structural conceit and making her more of an active, rather than a passive character.
In fairness, the film does have the occasional good moment, most notably a rather charming sex scene that involves Jonathan Rhys Meyers and Paz Vega covering each other in paint. The actors look like they’re really enjoying themselves – it’s just a shame that sense of fun is so absent from the rest of the movie.
It’s also worth noting that the film looks good, courtesy of Ben Nott’s glossy cinematography, and the production designers have done a pretty decent job with what was presumably a relatively low budget, creating a suitably noirish atmosphere, especially in the nighttime and nightclub scenes.
As for the performances, Hirsch is good value as the increasingly unhinged Michael, while Rhys Meyers is solid as Jonathan and Piven is engaging as Vinny, even if it frequently feels like he belongs in a completely different movie. On top of that, Vega brings much-needed warmth to the film, while Michael Madsen invests his small but crucial role with enough of old magic that you hope he gets offered some juicier roles in future projects as a result.
In short, American Night is ultimately a case of the film’s reach exceeding its grasp. It’s aiming for a complex, twisty tale in the vein of Pulp Fiction, but the story isn’t strong enough or smart enough to justify the three part structure. Still, Alessio Della Valle clearly has a degree of visual style, and there’s enough here to warrant interest in their next project, whatever that might be.
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