BRICK (2005)

When I first saw Rian Johnson's neo noir debut, BRICK, I was at an extremely impressionable age, craving new and challenging forms of entertainment. As time has gone on, I've found myself more and more engrossed by its offbeat aesthetic and deceiptely simple technique, increasingly appreciative of such a brilliant and strange film.

Upon my first viewing, I was not a dyed-in-the-wool fan of the hardboiled detective genre by any stretch of the imagination. But BRICK had an atmosphere and energy that demanded to be seen and understood, so much so that I immediately needed to research its roots and influences to better understand the context of what I had just seen; its thick, pulpy language; its winding, yet engrossing plot; its flares of physical comedy. This was a movie that felt entirely post-modern in the absolute best sense of the term.

Borrowing heavily from the novels of Dashiell Hammett, BRICK's marrying of the author's hardboiled style with modern high school tropes and archetypes seems, on paper at least, like a recipe for disaster. The concept brings to mind images of sixteen-year-olds in trenchcoats involved in low-stakes contrivances about betting on a football game or ditching class. The world of BRICK harbors none of these self-parodying visuals, opting for a much harsher depiction of modern teenage hijinks that happens to be accompanied by a hardboiled tongue. 

My first time watching it, I remember having a tough time following the plot after about the half way point, but neither my interest nor my attention waivered. The aesthetic of the film, its archetypal, yet human, characters and its visual momentum are what kept me interested throughout.

Cinematographer Steve Yedlin defies as many assumptions about what the film SHOULD be as writer/director Rian Johnson does. Yedlin doesn't bathe the film in a washed out color palette, or reinforce the noir aesthetic with unnecessary venetian blinds or overbearing shadows. The film is quite colorful and the action often has a stylized, larger-than-life quality. The camera is always moving with its characters in dynamic (often comedic) paths, knowing exactly when to go and when to stop, allowing characters to step out of frame when a joke calls for it. 

Joseph Gordon Levitt is fantastic as the lead, Brendan Frye, never leaning too hard into his obvious influences of similar characters like Sam Spade and Jake Gittes, while still invoking their hard edges and charming wit. Also in the film, just before their careers truly took off, are Emilie De Ravin as Levitt's troubled ex and Nora Zehetner as the femme fatale, with a minor appearance by Richard Roundtree as the vice principal. 

In my opinion, BRICK is the gold standard of what a (relatively speaking) low budget film should be. Made for a hair under $500,000, BRICK's (again, relatively speaking) low budget is never a draw back and, in fact, a bit of strength. Though a tad unpolished at points, the film never feels or looks cheap. We aren't just in one or two or even three locations, making the world these characters inhabit feel expansive. The sparing use of blood and violence simultaneously hides the film's narrow budget for action scenes and makes the fights that we do see feel that much more important and dangerous.

This film had an impact on me when I was teenager that I carry with me today. It's sharp, it's funny and it could only be made for a post-modern audience. Johnson uses the audience's assumptions of what a neo noir should look and feel like and turns it on its head. It's subversive and self-aware in all the right ways. If you haven't seen it (or if it's been awhile), track it down and enjoy one of the strongest feature debuts of a young director this century.