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SXSW Review: The Unlikely Kindred Friendship in ‘The Peanut Butter Falcon’

Time: 10:30pm on March 15th, 2019. On the outside of the Alamo Lamar in Austin, Texas a line of festival goers await to see a little film called The Peanut Butter Falcon. At this point in the festival, it already made its initial three screening run, but managed to pick up a fourth screening thanks to all the buzz it was generating. A random dude goes up and down the line handing out free coffee to attendees in a totally bizarre act for a late night film. He thanked everyone for coming out, greeted everyone, and appreciated everyone’s attendance.

That random dude was the director, Tyler Nilson, and his sincere appreciation for the late night crowd matched that of the work he put into his film, because The Peanut Butter Falcon ended up being one of the most pleasant surprises of the entire festival. 

The film follows Zak (Zack Gottsagen), a boy with downs syndrome living in a nursing home with dreams of becoming a professional wrestler, but who is kept in check by Eleanor (Dakotah Johnson) and the staff of the facility. One day he escapes their custody and stumbles upon another runaway named Tyler (Shia LaBeouf), a fisher fleeing to Florida after destroying another man’s gear. Together they go on a journey to fulfill Zak’s dream of attending The Salt Water Redneck’s wrestling academy while pursuing parties chase them. 

A great deal of the film’s pleasantries come from Tyler’s and Zak’s relationship. The two meet under unlikely circumstances and come together under a mutual understanding of their on-the-run status. Together, they represent a carefree duo that finds joy in drinking on the beach, firing guns, and developing Zak’s wrestling persona, The Peanut Butter Falcon. With parts humor, sympathy, and rebellion, the two are an indomitable pair that generate much of the film’s long lasting appeal, and which only grows stronger as the film progresses and as external forces try to tear them apart. Though their pairing unlikely, you can’t help but leave the theater feeling warmed by the kindred friendship the two form on their journey.

Shia LaBeouf’s performance as Tyler is nothing short of authentic and kind. Who initially comes off as corse and abrasive ends up being someone who befriends an unlikely stranger and treats him as a normal human being. Tyler’s character is unbiased in how he sees Zak, and doesn’t let his disability come to define him. His determination and commitment to making Zak’s dreams come true is wholesome, and feeds into the film’s themes about how we treat people with disabilities.

Zak’s down syndrome is often brought up as a rationale to restrict him, but what PBF rightfully asserts is that it shouldn’t matter. He is not seen in the same light as others because of what others project onto him, and not what Zak knows true about himself. Elenor’s character is perhaps representative of the audience and the realization that comes from the film’s message. To see someone with a disability is to automatically assume inability, but what comes to fruition is that their hopes and dreams shouldn’t be shelved because of labels.

It’s to co-directors Tyler Nilson’s and Mike Schwartz’s credit that something as thematically delicate and socially pertinent didn’t miss the mark. The film was made out of a promise to Zack Gottsagen after knowing him for years and while the directors were still living in tents, so they come from a place of understanding. They treat this odyssey road movie as a vehicle for opening new perspectives on those with disabilities, and they do so with a warm, southern authenticity. With no ridicule or malice, PBF constantly embraces the idea of what it means to treat others as equals in spite of differences.

If there is a point to critique, it is the ending. To put simply it drops like a brick. When the climax finally hits, you are taken aback by the fact that the film ends within three minutes of its peak. It could have benefited from some more resolution surrounding both runaways, and while the closing shot is definitive in where the characters go, the transition between climax and ending stumbles on execution.

In the deluge of festival films to watch, there are usually more disappointments than there are standouts, but when a festival film makes such an impact as this one did, it makes it all worth it. To round out my opening anecdote, the film was so positively received that it went on to snag a fifth screening after winning the Narrative Spotlight award — which it too ended up being sold out. During a post screening Q&A, the directors emphatically told the audience that they needed positive word of mouth so they can get a distributor. After seeing the film, I would be incredibly remorseful for wider audiences if it didn’t eventually get a deal because the legend of The Peanut Butter Falcon shouldn’t be limited to the festival circuit.

Score: 4.25/5 Stars

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Review: Bad Times at the El Royale Taps Into Moral Choice

Seven years after the release of his subversive horror film, Cabin in the Woods, Drew Goddard returns to the directing with the mystery thriller, Bad Times at the El Royale. In the meanwhile, Goddard has kept himself busy with scripts like The Martian, but for him to return to directing probably means he sees something special in this particular script. Something has drawn him out of the writers room and back into the director’s chair, and after seeing it, there is much more to the film than what its unique premise sells itself on.

The story takes place at the El Royale, a remote hotel located on the border between Nevada and California. After the outlawing of gambling, the hotel falls in popularity, and now, a sole bell boy (Lewis Pullman) runs the whole hotel. One day, four guests converge on the hotel: a priest (Jeff Bridges), a salesman (Jon Hamm), a singer (Cynthia Erivo), and a young woman (Dakotah Johnson), each with their own stories of why they’re here, but as we soon will learn, appearances aren’t what they seem as secrets unfold and paths cross one another.

The film has the feel of something like Murder on the Orient Express; a cast of characters are brought together under strange circumstances to a remote location when things start to go awry. It’s a proximate who-done-it tale, if you will, full of mystery and suspicion, where everyone has ulterior motives, and every action is questioned. This looming sense of distrust can be attributed to the film’s construction. The story is told in a chapter format focusing on individual characters. We start one chapter that picks up where another left off or we end a chapter on a cliff hanger that is only resolved with another chapter later on. In that way, the film is acting like a narrative puzzle, asking audiences to piece together events, characters, and motives as they’re provided. 

This type of construction is a major strength of the film. Perhaps self-explanatory, but a mystery thriller requires a true mystery in order for it work as intended, and to Goddard’s credit, the script is layered in such a way where things are never clear. Not in a crippling way, but rather in a conscious way, one that engages your curiosity. A priest, salesman, and singer are clearly not all brought to the El Royale out of sheer circumstance (though it does have the makings for a good joke set up), so it is inherent in that suspicion where much of the film’s appeal comes from. As Goddard plays his cards, there is a revelatory quality where back stories and motives are revealed that in turn satisfies our desire to connect all the dots. It’s a feeling that will surely evoke one or two ‘ah-hahs’ out of you. 

The film also extends beyond its star-filled cast and novelty aesthetics. One of the quaint points about the setting is that the hotel is split in half by the California-Nevada border, allowing guests to choose housing in one side or the other. It isn’t until late in the film that this detail of choice becomes more profound. Morality and aspects of choice emerge as its predominate theme. The line that divides the hotel acts a metaphorical moral line in the film, where our characters choose between right and wrong time and again to make declarations about who they are, and even if there is only two sides, straddling the line that divides them, in the gray area so to speak, is very well possible. 

However, there are some hiccups in this tale. Chris Hemsworth’s character, a Charles Manson-esk hippie cult leader named Billy Lee, enters the film in the last act and forces the film to enter a line of questioning about morality. Up until this point, the code of morality is only noted. When Hemsworth enters, the film sits you down and forces you into this new mode of thinking. Where you might of been trying to solve the mystery at the start, you are now entered into a new mode about morality. It’s not until this revelatory moment where you realize the actions taken prior have some deeper underlying meaning. I can’t say that this shake up is detrimental to the film, but it should be noted that the film flips like a switch as it narrows in on one scene for an extended period to nail down its message. 

The film is fixated on telling a tale of moral choice. Through our band of characters and puzzling narrative, Goddard has created a mystery thriller where the moral compass emerges as the conflict at hand unfolds. While there is a heavy handed approach to its messaging near the end, the moral conflict, winding mystery, and star-filled cast add up to a film that well exceeds its minor shortcomings. As enigmatic as it is engaging, Bad Times at the El Royale is a an excellent mystery film that will surely satisfy your inner Sherlock and Kantian philosopher. 

Score: 4/5