
By Jackson TOYON
What does a man do when he believes the powers that be have pushed him too far? One frigid winter day in February 1977, by-standing Hoosiers, and later the national public, would discover the answer in a dramatic and harrowing fashion. Director Gus Van Sant’s new film, a dramatized work based on Alan Berry’s true crime documentary “Dead Man’s Line,” explores the real-life story of Tony Kiritsis (Bill Skarsgård) – a poor veteran and real estate developer from Indianapolis who was fully convinced (without evidence) that a mortgage company was conspiring to ruin him and take everything from him.
In a flashback, Meridian Mortgage Company gave Tony Kiritsis a loan to buy land and lease it to a shopping mall developer – a loan that Kiritsis would eventually fall behind on. When his broker Richard Hall (Dacre Montgomery) refused to grant him more time to pay, Kiritsis became convinced that Hall and his father M. L. Hall (Al Pacino) were sabotaging him by steering away clients from his property and forcing him to default on his loan. Three years later Kiritsis has resorted to extreme action as he made his way to Meridian’s offices, listening to his favorite smooth-talking radio DJ Fred Temple (Colman Domingo). Arriving for an appointment carrying a suspiciously long and hastily taped box, he accepts a meeting with Hall after finding out that the elder Hall is on an unexpected vacation in Florida. The situation quickly turns dire in Hall’s office as Kiritsis reveals his possession of a shotgun with a peculiar modification – a dead man’s wire. Rigged to the weapon’s trigger and looped around both men’s necks, it ensures that if Kiritsis is shot or accosted by police or Hall tries to run, the gun will go off and kill the hostage. Steeped in paranoia and enjoying his newfound power to keep the cops from touching him, he kidnaps Hall and takes him to his apartment until Meridian and law enforcement have met his “reasonable” demands.
Bill Skarsgård is a chameleon in this suspenseful romp through a 1970s Indianapolis – slipping right into the role of a deranged, off-kilter man who despite everything hates the idea of being remembered as an insane kidnapper. Kiritsis launches into fits of rage when he sees the police preparing any potential actions against him but apologizes each time for swearing and letting his anger out. He often talks to his hostage like he’s hanging out with a good buddy, going so far as asking for his preference on having ice in a glass of milk offered to him. But he always sits dangerously on the fence between a misunderstood person who’s been done harm by “the man” and an unstable criminal who revels in the spotlight this media spectacle has given him.
This energetic movie is highly reminiscent of Sidney Lumet’s 1975 film “Dog Day Afternoon,” which covers another true crime story – a bank robbery gone sideways and the media circus surrounding it – and also happens to star Al Pacino. Skarsgård‘s Tony Kiritsis and Pacino’s Sonny Wortzik both end up garnering sympathy from locals spectating their respective incidents, and both films have an exploration of anti-capitalist themes. Gus Van Sant’s film, however, has more of a darkly humorous edge to it that gives it a strangely lighter-hearted tone despite the subject matter.
This was a story from before my time that I had not heard about until I discovered this film, so seeing it onscreen was a compelling experience – and the buttery smooth voice of Colman Domingo only added to the experience. Tense, offbeat and weirdly funny at times, “Dead Man’s Wire” transforms a bizarre ’70s true crime oddity into something uncomfortably close that feels relevant to the frustration and struggles of America’s lower-middle working class. The film does not try to justify its subject’s actions so much as it endeavors to simply observe him up close, allowing the viewer to find sympathy and disgust in equal measure as the wire tightens.
It’s not perfect but it’s engaging, stylishly done and has slick soundtrack choices – which makes for a thoroughly solid watch indeed.
Rated R.