The hillbilly crime movie has become something of a fascination of mine. Two of my favorite films of the last few years are David Mackenzie's and Taylor Sheridan's Hell or High Water and Steven Soderbergh's Logan Lucky, both of which are supremely underrated near-masterpieces about a couple of bumpkins in the American South who get caught up in a scheme that would seem to be way over their heads.
Maybe I just like the culture of the region as a canvas for storytelling—the stereotypes of people having slow speech patterns and being less formally educated can make for quiet, quirky storytelling full of awkward pauses and furrowed thinking faces. I think, too, that the crime movie, especially those with lots of moving parts and a burning-fuse-style plot, is often reserved for urban or high-class, high-stakes settings. Casinos, banks, megacorporations, the mafia, inner-city crime syndicates—there's kind of an expected language and palette for movies about heists and elaborate crime. Taking that story out of its normal setting and putting it in one where the population density is astronomically lower, where people are more fierce about their independence, and where everyone waves and says, "Howdy," from their front porch is, to me, kind of inherently interesting.
Arkansas is not quite operating on the same level as Hell or High Water or Logan Lucky, nor would I call it a near-masterpiece. But it is unfortunately destined to suffer a similar fate of under-appreciation by the public, releasing in a global crisis in which movies either have to wait indefinitely until theaters reopen, or get lost in the promotional bog that is video-on-demand. Distributor Lionsgate has opted for the latter, and likely, I'd be impressed if you've heard of this one before coming across this review. I certainly hadn't until I was given the opportunity to write about it.
Liam Hemsworth anchors the story as Kyle, a "strong, silent type" with more going on in his head than one would initially suspect—honestly very reminiscent of Chris Pine's Toby Howard and Channing Tatum's Jimmy Logan. Kyle aimlessly begins a life of drug-dealing for a mysterious higher-up named "Frog." Shortly thereafter, he is assigned a new partner, the slight and quick-tongued Swin (Clark Duke, who also wrote and directed the film). Kyle and Swin verbally size each other up and immediately decide they'll probably chafe on one another, but these are Frog's orders, and they can choose to either follow them or wind up in a ditch.
Relocated to an unnamed state park in Arkansas, Kyle and Swin are tasked with carrying out drug distribution on their off-days, and playing the role of junior park rangers in between, living on-site and taking orders from a typically eccentric John Malkovich as Bright, the senior ranger and their direct supervisor in Frog's operation.
When one distribution job goes awry, Kyle and Swin are forced to improvise—do they send word of what happened up the chain of command, and await the punishment? Or should they just play things cool and see how long they can ride it out? At first, it almost seems like none of their superiors notice the issue or care. But how long can that last?
Arkansas tells its story in denoted chapters, cutting between the modern-day story of Kyle and Swin, and the 80's-90's recounting of Frog's rise to power. Frog is a wiry and skeezy (but strangely charming) Vince Vaughn. He learns the ropes of drug dealing and forming your own business by paying attention to how he gets screwed by his superiors. Eventually, he cuts out the middleman and begins his own little empire.
The Frog chapters are decidedly more meditative, portraying the brutality and back-stabbing of the drug business in a more casual but more somber light. When Kyle and Swin double-cross someone, you can see the magnitude of their actions on their faces. But Frog takes only a half-second to decide that what he's doing is the right choice, even if it's someone else's life in his hands. It's a little more Hell or High Water.
The ballad of Kyle and Swin, however, leans a little more Logan Lucky, at least until the latter events of the film. They're both bumbling fools caught up in something way bigger than they realize, and they have to figure out the game along the way. Swin is overly polite and tactful, to the point of annoyance in most interactions, while Kyle is abrasive and to-the-point.
Duke writes everyone in their own distinct language, which is especially impressive in his first feature film. Also impressive is Hemsworth, who gives possibly the best performance of his career to date; frankly, it's the first of his that has really engrossed me. The rest of the cast members each bring their own flavor to the story; it's hard to tell whether it's a strength of writing or acting, or both—which is all the more impressive. Vivica A. Fox is charming and confusing in a small role, and Michael Kenneth Williams is weirdly endearing and menacing at the same time. Eden Brolin also brings a different angle to the mixture as Swin's unwitting new girlfriend Johnna. The cast brings the weirdness, goofy charm, and malice in droves—an impressive ensemble performance for such a modestly produced film.
The film likely spared expenses on visual presentation, though the flat lighting and cinematography do bring an earthy authenticity to the story in their own way. The soft-focus light bloom effect throughout gets grating after awhile, but at least it's mostly used with purpose, to distinguish time periods.
Arkansas is a slow, relatively quiet film; at just under two hours, it felt like a much fuller meal to get through. But it is never aimless or distracted; Duke makes sure to move the characters toward their impending conflict at all times. It's an impressively laid-back and quirky movie for its somewhat gloomy subject and resolution. The two tones aren't at odds with one another, but create an atmosphere that's as likably oddball as the cast.
Its one major flaw would that it seems to be more about crime in the South than either of its aforementioned contemporaries, both of which focus more on their respective main characters than on the crimes they got involved with. As a result, Arkansas feels a little uncertain of what exactly it wants to say about crime in the South. But regardless, it's a bizarre and intriguing journey to the end, full of funny and sad twists and turns. A very worthwhile entry in the often disappointing canon of video-on-demand. Definitely check it out.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AuEur0ZbEt8&t=16s&w=585