Brothers Andy (Philip Seymour Hoffman) and Hank Hanson (Ethan Hawke) are both strapped for cash. Desperate to solve his own problems, and knowing his younger brother is likely just as desperate, Andy hatches a plan to rob a mom-and-pop jewelry store. But this store is owned by Charles (Albert Finney) and Nanette Hanson (Rosemary Harris), Andy and Hank’s own mom and pop, and the crime goes sour almost as quickly as it begins, setting off a devastating chain of events.

CRITIQUE

Two years ago Sidney Lumet made something of a return to form, directing Find Me Guilty. Few people saw it, but many of those who did (including myself) saw evidence of the old Lumet magic, the magic that made Dog Day Afternoon, Network and Twelve Angry Men classics but had been almost entirely missing from such later works as Guilty as Sin, A Stranger Among Us and the 1999 remake of Gloria.

Now comes Before the Devils Know You’re Dead, a masterful blending of crime thriller and melodrama that proves that the old Lumet is indeed back. This is genre filmmaking at its best, taking what is a fairly standard plot and making it great through character, incident and a gut-punch of believable human action and emotion.

It’s clear from the beginning this will be no ordinary genre flick. The sex scene involving Andy and his wife Gina (played by Marisa Tomei) is startlingly frank and realistic, letting you know right off the bat that Lumet intends to make this story as raw and naked (no pun intended) as possible. And that’s exactly what he does. By the story’s end, the curtain will be completely ripped back on the characters’ lives, and you’ll see them at their most primal and base.

In fact, it doesn’t feel voyeuristic or intrusive, but there is the sense you’re being afforded a look into the most painful moments of these people’s lives. And there’s not a false note in the acting (the entire cast is superb) or characterization. It is melodramatic, but as Lumet himself has pointed out, it’s melodramatic in the old sense of the term, meaning the characters are driven by the story and their emotions and actions tend to reach just this side of the line that separates believable from overblown (or just this side of the line that separates the old notion of what constitutes melodrama from its more modern definition).       

Lumet will turn 84 this year, and the only other director I can think of who could perform such marvelous work at that age is Kurosawa, who made his final film at the age of 83. Not bad company, is it? I hope it doesn’t come off as patronizing when I say Lumet makes many of his younger brethren look like a bunch of lazy also-rans.

But this is clearly the work of man who has spent fifty years behind the camera; there’s a maturity and wisdom to Lumet’s direction you wouldn’t find in the work of a tyro filmmaker. He knows exactly how long any scene should be, how long to hold a shot. He also understands how to use the architecture and geography of a scene better than possibly any other living director (I would venture this is a product of his numerous years working in theater and live television).

Many of the settings here are repeated numerous times during the movie, and Lumet has an amazing ability to use the design and furnishings of any given space to establish a sense of everyday normalcy at one point and then turn it around to establish a sense of tension, loss and desperation at another. (This is one of those numerous instances in which words have largely failed me, but you only need compare the various scenes in Hoffman and Tomei’s home--particularly the final two--to understand what I’m attempting to describe.)

The actual plot is fairly simple and straightforward (even with the disjointed manner in which the narrative unfolds), but the script by playwright Kelly Masterson is far more layered than a short summation of the plot would seem to indicate. Not much is explicitly spelled out here, and there’s no backstory to delve into the characters’ lives beyond what is hinted at in the plot proper, but there are lines of dialogue and brief excursions beyond the main story that help deepen our understanding of what brought these people to this situation and lend believability to their actions.

This is especially true for the Hoffman character. There are tiny clues in his every action and word--as well as in practically every possession he owns--that tell you exactly how and why he arrived at this point in his life. (Andy is the most dangerous of individuals: a desperate man with no moral compass.) Unfortunately, Masterson stumbles just a bit at the end; the ultimate resolution of the story itself is by no means a letdown, but it is obvious Masterson couldn’t devise meaningful exits for two of the main characters. That tiny problem aside, this is a masterful piece of work all around.

THE VIDEO

Before the Devil... was shot on HD video (Lumet is a very vocal proponent of this method), and the 1.85:1/1080p transfer is another example of the best of/worst the medium has to offer. There’s an intentionally blown-out and desaturated look to most of the film, so don’t expect any colors to leap off the screen (virtually the only shock of bright color comes from Hoffman’s red Saab), but all of the blues and grays are perfectly rendered. Interiors tend to be quite dark, and it’s here that the transfer reveals its source, as at times there’s a murkiness and flatness to some of the darker shots (I suppose everyone once again made the mistake of thinking available light would be enough).

THE AUDIO

The DTS-HD 5.1 Master Audio offers a very good listening experience, although some muffled dialogue hampers its effectiveness to a small degree. It’s a nicely atmospheric mix, with the surrounds serving to impart a believable sense of space and natural acoustics. Low end action is relegated to adding heft to the score and the occasional gunshot. (Instead of pummeling you with unnecessarily overcooked bass, the mix wisely strives for a more realistic presentation). An English Dolby Digital 5.1 track is also included. English SDH and Spanish subtitles are available.

THE EXTRAS

The commentary by Sidney Lumet, Philip Seymour Hoffman and Ethan Hawke is a very good track, exploring nearly every facet of the film, from story and casting on down to the technical side of the shoot.

How the Devil Was Made (25 minutes) is a better than average making-of featurette. Fine interviews with Lumet, Hoffman, Hawke and the producers are featured alongside behind-the-scenes footage.

Bringing up the rear is the movie’s theatrical trailer.

FINAL THOUGHTS

Would it be too much to ask that Sidney Lumet live to be 184? Any director capable of this caliber of work--even one also responsible for something as misguided as The Wiz--deserves to stick around as long as possible.