Physical and emotional burdens drive compelling Weight
On April 5, 1933, President Franklin D. Roosevelt issued Executive Order 6102. This step toward righting the floundering U.S. economy dictated “the hoarding of gold coin, gold bullion and gold certificates” over the amount of $100 was now forbidden. The reasoning behind that was this act was leading to economic stagnation, exacerbating the effects of the Great Depression. Citizens were to turn in any gold they had and would then be paid $20.67 per troy ounce. Anyone found refusing to do so would be subject to fines up to $10,000 and 10 years of jail time. To say that this policy was unpopular is an understatement.
This act is the catalyst of Padraic McKinley’s The Weight, a tale of desperate men forced by circumstance to defy this order, the price for some far greater than the gold they’re charged with hiding. Briskly told – a bit too briskly at times – the film sports handsome production values that effectively convey the beauty and brutality of the Pacific Northwest where most of the action takes place, as well as the economic vagaries of the era.
Samuel Murphy’s (Ethan Hawke) sense of ingenuity has made him not only a successful mechanic but a resourceful single father as well. Though he can solve most any problem and make his daughter Penny (Avy Berry) happy, he can’t outrun the economic conditions that are plaguing the citizens of Eugene, Oregon. Evicted from their home and in search of another, Murphy comes upon a group of ruffians, a fight breaks out and he winds up in jail as a result. Penny is put in foster care and he’s sent to a remote work camp, overseen by the seemingly fair-dealing taskmaster, Clancy (Russell Crowe).
Desperate to get out before Penny becomes a ward of the state, Murphy agrees to take on an arduous task which, upon completion, according to Clancy, will lead to his freedom. Along with fellow inmates Rankin (Austin Amelio), Singh (Avi Nash) and Olson (Lucas Lynggaard Tonnesen), he’s to haul a cache of gold bars out of a remote mining company, as its owners wish to keep them hidden. They’re to traipse through the deep forests of Oregon to a location where their burden will be relieved. And just so they don’t get any ideas of absconding with the gold themselves, they’ll be accompanied and watched over by Amis (Sam Hazeldine) and Letender (George Burgess).
Echoes of Henri-Georges Clouzot’s The Wages of Fear and William Friedkin’s remake Sorcerer reverberate throughout the film, the primary quartet forced to deal with not only the sense of distrust between them but natural and manmade difficulties as well. An encounter with a prospector leads to an attempted theft of their valuable burden, while their crossing of a tattered rope bridge, made more difficult due to their weighty booty, tries them physically and emotionally. Throw in the elements and this journey is fraught with one challenge after another.
While the story is a compelling one and the characters fascinating, McCarthy errs at times in rushing through scenes rather than building tension. This is most egregious during the bridge sequence which finds Murphy at the center of the fraying structure, catching the gold bars as they are thrown to him so that he can toss them the rest of the way across the span. This sequence begins well past the beginning of this task, then hurried through, our hero only experiencing peril once. This should have been carefully built and milked for maximum success but the opportunity is wasted, much like the film’s ending which feels truncated.
Still, the conflicting characters make for worthy drama, the opposing political and social views expressed by the men a microcosm of diversity. While Singh rages against the social order and calls for a redistribution of wealth, Rankin’s philosophy of Social Darwinism clashes with the prevailing attitudes devoted to helping those who are down and out. Murphy, wisely, keeps his views to himself, while the inclusion of the mining camp’s cook (Julia Jones) to the group provides the feminine perspective. It’s rare to find a film that touts so many diverse points of view in an evenhanded manner, none favored above the other.
The cast is fine across the board but it’s the scenes between Hawke and Crowe – too few by my count- that stand out. Both have learned the power of stillness, the former since First Reformed turning in one thoughtful performance after another. Seeing these two employ a stoic approach, allowing their scenes to grow in silence and punctuating these moments with subtle grace notes is to witness film acting at its best. Had the movie focused on these two performers alone, I wouldn’t have been disappointed.
Thoughtful and enthralling, The Weight overcomes its flaws, ultimately revealing itself to be a collection of character studies, each of them saddled with an unwanted burden, all striving for liberation. As such, it proves timely as we all are familiar with feeling helpless in the face of forces we cannot control. How we handle our burden is a testament to our inner fortitude, the film reminding us that in persevering, half the battle is won. In Theaters.
Mossy Bottom a hairy, Halloween tale
Shaun the Sheep is a veritable television institution in England. Featured in 190 episodes over seven seasons, the expressive ovine, created by Nick Park and Bob Baker of Wallace and Gromit fame, has entertained millions with his misadventures, often centered on bringing a bit of excitement to his boring life. His fascination with technology has led to one near disaster after another, while his fellow sheep, often looking on bemusedly, usually come to his rescue.
Not satisfied with simply conquering British children’s television, Park and Baker set their sights on the world of film with the imaginatively titled 2015 release, Shaun the Sheep Movie followed up by 2019’s Farmageddon. Now comes the release of The Beast of Mossy Bottom, a Halloween-themed feature that finds the titular wooly buck combating not only the results of a misguided experiment but a mysterious monster as well.
According to the film, and unbeknownst to me, sheep are great lovers of pumpkins. Having planted an extensive garden of the squash, they’re eagerly awaiting the harvest, their carving tools at the ready. However, a freak accident involving the Farmer (voice by John Sparkes) ruins the crop, a bevy of shattered gourds left in his wake. Not to be deterred, Shaun (Justin Fletcher), armed with a cast-off science book, sets out to find a way to repair the damage.
What he concocts is a super steroid-like potion that, once applied, accelerates the healing and growth of the shattered pumpkins. Where the damaged pepos are concerned, all is well. However, when the magic goo gets into the Farmer’s hair growth tonic, he soon finds his entire body covered in shaggy fur! After stumbling from his home into the wilderness, he’s soon mistaken for a bigfoot-like creature and, before you know it, nearby townspeople are in hot pursuit, having broken out their pitchforks and torches.
All of this is done with nary a word of actual dialogue. The characters all communicate with suggestive grunts, expressive sighs, or inquisitive moans. As such, directors Steve Cox, Matthew Walker and their crew employ incredibly expressive clay constructs, the attention to detail they employ remarkable and impressive. As with every good stop motion production, the viewer becomes so taken with the illusion the filmmakers create, you forget about how much time and preparation is needed to execute every meticulous movement and detail. Sequences involving multiple characters moving as well as other objects careening about are astounding in their complexity, the imagination at play equally astonishing.
As with all these features, the story is inconsequential. It acts simply as a throughline for the filmmakers to develop elaborate set pieces around. Cox and Walker don’t disappoint as they deliver one knockout sequence after another, whether it be a Rube Goldberg-inspired trap to snare the Farmer or a complex rescue involving a ship pulling out of port and the sheep futilely trying to stop it from the shore.
These moments, as well as various sight gags, deliver one pleasant chuckle after another. And for horror film aficionados, the directors throw in allusions to various genre classics, each rendered through their ironic lens. And while Mossy Bottom is not likely to be considered a classic in its own right, it is a passable diversion that will please Shaun fans and perhaps lead to the making of some new ones. Afterall, it’s hard not be won over by his innocent eyes and the hapless shrug he employs when his plans go awry. To paraphrase a certain spider, he’s “some sheep!” In Theaters.
Curious lack of heart undoes Uprising
What with all the different big-screen adaptations of the Robin Hood legend, it’s amazing that the origin story of the most famous resident of Sherwood Forest has never been told. Paul Greengrass rectifies that with The Uprising, a sound yet curiously uninspiring take on the renegade archer’s tale. Touting strong performances and impressive production values, the filmmaker does a fine job of immersing the viewer in the dour Middle Ages environment. Yet, there’s something missing in the telling of the tale, its approach perhaps more focused on the historical than the emotional which ultimately prevents it from sticking the landing.
Using the Peasants’ Revolt of 1381 as it back drop, the film focuses on a sympathetic Everyman. The Ploughman (Andrew Garfield) is a farmer who has little left to lose. Having lost his family due to the Plague that swept across Europe, he lives his life in solitude, stolidly minding his farm with little incentive. Adding to his woes are the high taxes he’s forced to pay, recently raised once more by King Richard II’s (Woody Norman) corrupt court of advisers. He’s pushed to his breaking point when a group of taxmen arrive to collect the new levy, his impulsive act of defiance sparking a local revolution that soon gains traction in other villages.
As the movement grows in size and makes its way toward London, intrigue in Richard’s court reaches a fever pitch. The boy king is nothing but a figurehead, his mother (Katherine Waterston) standing by, subtly prompting him to use the power at his disposal. Only when he finally meets the Ploughman does he decide to take a more active role in answering his subjects’ demands. That they seemingly have more in common than expected forges a connection between the two that could possibly lead to a peaceful resolution.
Greengrass fills out the cast of characters with a combination of those based on real-life figures and fictional constructs. John Ball (Jamie Bell) and Wat Tyler (Cosmo Jarvis), fellow revolutionaries to our hero, each play significant roles in not simply propelling this movement, but in pushing and encouraging the Ploughman to become its figurehead. Meanwhile, the character of Alyce (Thomasin McKenzie) is used to represent the many women who were abused and marginalized during this time, her story a moving and poignant one that underscores the many injustices she and her ilk were forced to endure.
As is sometimes the case with Greengrass, he gets in his own way to the film’s detriment. While his use of handheld cameras to create a more intimate, immersive experience for the viewer is effective in United 93 and Captain Phillips, it serves as a distraction here, as it did in The Bourne Ultimatum. Using the camera to put the audience in the teeth of the action is desirable when it is done unobtrusively, something the director is capable of doing. Yet, when this approach calls attention to itself, the camera bobbing and weaving, obscuring the action rather than clarifying it, the technique becomes a nausea-inducing liability that takes the viewer out of the film.
What’s most curious about the movie is its lack of inspiration. While the Ploughman is a sympathetic character, the performances across the board are good and the attention to historical detail impressive, there’s a curious lack of heart to the production. Missing is the emotional connection that made Braveheart so compelling, a film I couldn’t help comparing this to. In the end, Uprising is a movie of hits and misses, one that eventually plays like a history report with occasional highlights, rather than a compelling call to arms. In Theaters.
This article appears in September 17-23, 2026.
