Men of Seattle

Men of Seattle
Directed by Dustin Guest and Anthony Boyle

The biggest problem with the original Men of Seattle, strangely contrary to a viewer's first impression as the credits roll, is not that it gives too much information, but too little. Sure, at times Dustin and Anthony run the risk of making us cynical about the experience by letting their characters drone on for minutes at a time, but the more frustrating aspect of the movie is that there are hints of depth and subtlety that are given only a few seconds of screentime before disappearing forever. It's a surprisingly engaging, classic mobster movie formula that is simultaneously overtold and undertold. When the ultimate message of the film emerges in the final scenes, it feels like a rather insincere deathbed conversion, a morality message tacked on at the last minute instead of Jimmy's final revelation. The experience is plagued by muddled, circuitous conversations and a wildly inconsistent tone that inspires us to pay attention but doesn't allow us to understand -- Jimmy's responses remain completely unpredictable throughout the movie and we never know whether he's going to agree or yell at his henchmen for no good reason.

This is all the more irritating because Men of Seattle is at times a character-driven powerhouse. The early developments of Tony's character are interesting, because they aren't immediately hammered into us and there's a certain logic to the way he imagines his own version of Jimmy's orders and believes he's carrying out his will. Unfortunately, like several other truncated plot threads that lurch to a sudden stop before really developing, the movie turns and deals with the whole thing before continuing onward. This is a frustratingly familiar pattern, and makes MOS feel disappointingly linear and muted. My favorite character was Mikey, mainly because he seems like the only one who wasn't trying to steal the spotlight and take charge of every situation. Some of the other characters have moments of inspiration as well, such as Dominic wanting some time off to go to Hawaii with his wife, and Bobby's tendency to jump to conclusions that Jimmy doesn't want to believe right away. Unfortunately, most of the effect is lost somewhere in the extended shouting matches where "fuck" is used for every part of speech it can possibly be used for and some that I'm pretty sure it can't.

Which brings me to the character of Jimmy Buscemi, who is above all the most frustrating part of the movie. His seemingly hair-trigger mood swings wouldn't be as aggravating if he didn't occasionally inspire some real empathy. It feels like he should have a lot more depth than he really does, and his development here is a mere shadow of his journey in MOS2; when his life takes it's last major turn at the end of this film, though, there's no resonance, because he spends most of the movie as a caricature rather than a true character. His replies to suggestions or questions from his friends seem to be chosen at random, and more than once he humors a fairly stupid reply from someone while barking, "What the fuck? Are you a fucking idiot?" to a more intelligent one seconds later. It doesn't help that a big portion of the first act is devoted to his insistence on loyalty and his people not making decisions without his blessing, only to have him shrug off Mikey and Bobby deciding to torture and kill a Westfield gang member and leave his body to intimidate other gang members in the next major sequence. The first installment of MOS suffers from a crippling flaw found in many series -- the latter stages of the story are horribly illogical and underdeveloped compared to the more stellar backstory told in the second installment, dragging down the experience as a whole on many different levels.

Now, here's the funny part -- despite the flaying I've served up in the last three paragraphs, I DID actually enjoy watching this. Something about the dialogue, circular and illogical may it be, is surprisingly captivating. MOS's claim to fame (other than it's titanic filesize, unheard of for 2000) has always been it's voice-acting. Even for today, barring some poor microphone compression and occasional inconsistent voices, the professionalism and magnitude of voicing a project like this, and doing it WELL, stands out in a big way. The fact that Men of Seattle can maintain weirdly unproductive and repetitive conversations and keep you listening is a pretty stellar feat. Jimmy and Mikey were the standouts for me, inspiring that classic "distant mobster empathy" you feel for essentially good people who do reprehensible things. Every agonizing scream, howl of frustration, and furious yell sound absolutely real, and this sort of thing proved to be no fluke in Dustin's later projects.

Obviously, the film is dated, having been released four years ago as of this writing, but it suffers doubly for striving farther and falling harder than most from it's time. Straight angles, long-held static shots (which would later inspire comparison to Alternate Vlarion 3, which employed similarly sloppy directing but didn't aspire to the same cinematic merit as MOS1), and almost comical blood effects taint what feels like a powerhouse of a film struggling to stay upright. It's not until the final showdown in an abandoned warehouse (which reminded me, oddly enough, of Ghost in the Shell) that Dustin achieves the directing feats he's well-known for today -- the quick-cutting, expertly coreographed, well-angled gang battle feels like the movie realizing it had been dozing off at the wheel, and doing some Formula 1 racing maneuvers to make up for it. Whatever problems MOS has, the ultimate payoff is not part of them.

Dustin and Anthony's epic hasn't suffered the test of time in the way other films have, but critically serves as the unsteady first steps in realizing their storytelling style. If it's sloppy and uneven, it's only because it aims so high and indicates so much promise in brief flashes, to later be realized in MOS2; it draws up comparison to Terminator 3 in an odd way, as the movie that would wrap up a story whose conclusion was already a given, standing mainly as a footnote to a more powerful larger piece. The fact that I was able to enjoy watching it despite it's crippling flaws bodes well for it, but while it's historically important for many reasons, it's successor is the one I'd rather see in the spotlight.

Critical Score: 60/100.
Personal Score: 75/100.