Nightcrawler (2014) | Film Review

Every year, at least one film manages to come out of nowhere and burrow its way under your skin for a myriad of reasons. Perhaps it touches on an issue close to your soul, as Prisoners did mine last year. Even more likely, it glides along the recesses of the human condition, that little portion of one’s psyche that tells the rest of your brain, ‘As awful or sadistically implausible as this seems, I believe people like this truly exist’. You try to convince yourself that it cannot be true. Surely whatever fictional character you are watching could never land in YOUR world…right? This year, please allow me to introduce that part of your mind to Nightcrawler’s Louis Bloom.

Jake Gyllenhaal’s embodiment of Louis Bloom is a perfect personification of the idealistic cynicism that runs forever omnipresent in today’s society. Within any other film, Bloom would be presented as a Zuckerberg-esque vision of enlightenment. A lost young man with little to his name in terms of money or job prospects, arrives upon his life’s calling one night while innocently approaching the site of a traffic accident, realizing in that instance how he has a knack for capturing these moments on film. In any other film, Bloom’s revelation would have shown how he uses this skill for good, capturing these moments and selling them to local news outlets as inspirational pieces, all the while growing his booming video production business. A beautiful American success story. Dan Gilroy’s Nightcrawler is not that movie.

This Louis Bloom is an American nightmare. After his life as a petty thief fails to pan out, Bloom stumbles upon journeyman crime journalist, Joe Loder (an almost unrecognizable Bill Paxton), onsite at a tragic car accident. Loder spends his nights monitoring scanners for the most horrific opportunities possible to film victims at their most vulnerable. Gunshot victims, mutilated mommies, numerous people trapped inside a burning building, etc. Bloom realizes he has zero moral objections with this vocation and therefore begins his personal quest to conquer the market in crime journalism, one victim at a time.

As Bloom learns more about his craft, he also realizes he will need to push for more blood and go further with the spectacle if he wants to succeed. He even establishes a direct relationship with Nina (Rene Russo), a local news veteran who is seemingly as morally bankrupt as Louis, since she is more concerned with what is legal as opposed to what is right. Ratings are the only thing that matter to Nina, the dead and the dying be damned. True to its name, Nightcrawler is a film crawling with narcissists and criminals who remain unflinching when confronted with the prospect of ‘the greater good’.

If Oscar has started making ballets, then they should go ahead and slap Jake Gyllenhaal’s name right there at the top. Not a single performance thus far this year has come close to what Gyllenhaal pulls off with Louis Bloom. We all know Bloom is a raging sociopath and a despicable human being, there is nothing redeeming about him at all. Yet, throughout the movie we still kind of root for the guy, and that is solely attributable to Gyllenhaal’s ‘Aw-Shucks’ meshed with seedy disposition of a performance.

Movie psychos usually come from two schools of acting: The Jack Nicholson version and the Anthony Hopkins version. Nicholson walks around chewing scenery as though it were an artistic buffet, where Hopkins effortless conveys charm and poise while waiting for the right moment to strike like a viper in the Amazon. Gyllenhaal is the first actor I have seen that successfully manages to pull off both options at the same time and do so convincingly.

There is a scene in Nightcrawler that takes place in a single car ride, as Bloom and his homeless partner Rick (played with the film’s only sympathetic voice by Riz Ahmed) negotiate terms while trailing known criminals to the scene of their next crime. Throughout this scene, Gyllenhaal effortlessly ping-pongs between sympathetic and vindictive without once missing a beat. It is moments like this, and almost every scene in the film carries these subtle little moments, that simply scream brilliance. This is acting at the level where it leaves performance and becomes personality. Gyllenhaal is, quite simply, breath-taking.

A great performance would mean little if Nightcrawler relied too heavily on clichés and metaphors, and thankfully Gilroy’s script is one of the more tightly written narratives to release this year. Much of the story I have avoided here, only because the turns the film takes are better enjoyed fresh and new. Instead of following the same type of anti-hero threads most of this ilk would, Gilroy elects to take us on a more natural progression. We may not like where the film goes, but it feels more honest and raw chain-of-events than other films in this genre. This is a thriller for people that have seen way too many thrillers.

Lastly, Gilroy flat-out knew how to shoot this. LA has rarely felt as much of a character in a film as it does in Nightcrawler. Films like Chinatown immediately sprung to mind while watching, make that absorbing, every frame as Bloom and Rick traverse the grimy underbelly of nocturnal LA. Gilroy’s city feels so vibrant and alive that by the end of this sadistic ride, you are left with that inescapable feeling that this is YOUR city.

With a brisk pace, a taut story, and one hell of a vividly unnerving performance from Jake Gyllenhaal; Dan Gilroy has crafted the most original thriller of the year. Nightcrawler will haunt you for days.

Aaron Peterson
The Hollywood Outsider