I was anxiously waiting for Get Low to falter: the gloss and sheen of its setting — the Tennessee hinterlands — is too refined, the legendary cast too flawless, and it’s all executed with the kind of precision that might suggest style over substance. But Get Low never faltered. The many affecting moments are exquisitely orchestrated and the old-timey stage provides them with an ethereal backdrop. Indeed, while it may be the feature-length debut of cinematographer Aaron Schneider, it rarely feels like a novice’s effort. This is a measured work, and the marketing team has cleverly billed it as both a fable and a true American folktale. I contend that to call the film anything but an award-vehicle is to give it a false pretense. Fables and folktales, at least the way I remember them, were never so immaculate.
Get Low tells the disputable story of Felix Bush (Robert Duvall), a cantankerous hermit who lived in the Tennessee backwoods in the early 20th century. Felix is known as a murderer and an outlaw by rumors and hearsay in counties far and wide, and he carries himself an air of mystery and a veil of meanness to maintain that perception. To “get low” in Felix’s parlance is to prepare for a funeral, and when he emerges from seclusion and wheels his wagon into town with a shotgun and a roll of Benjamins, that’s exactly what he’s looking for: he wants to have a public funeral while he’s alive and requests that every mourner tell a story about him. While in town, he crosses paths with an ex-lover, Mattie Darrow (Sissy Spacek), who wants to know why he disappeared so many years ago.
News of Felix’s visit gets to funeral home director Frank Quinn (Bill Murray), a seasoned salesman who sees an opportunity for a big payoff. Frank enlists his virtuous protégé Buddy Robinson (Lucas Black) to close the deal with Felix. For Buddy, however, the charge has more to do with understanding the soft-spoken recluse than making the sale. While there are morals and tender revelations, Get Low wisely moves away from sentimental overkill by bringing Murray into the fold. He delivers the cool wit that we have come to expect from him and, in playing a transplanted Chicagoan, doesn’t spoil it with an attempt at regional dialect. As usual, his lines are a lesson in understatement, which contrasts strikingly with Black, who is a crashing bore, especially for such a character-driven piece.
I imagine that this film will be extolled by the critics come award season, though it arrives well in advance of the rumblings of the hype machine. Felix is a memorable character, curt and idiosyncratic; Duvall embodies the man well, so well in fact that it’d be surprising if he didn’t get an Oscar nod. The Academy is known to give late-career recognition, and this film was clearly engineered for acclaim. The promotional sheet boasts of the award-winning talent that contributed to the production, and it’s not without merit: the cast is strong, the script is tight, and the crisp cinematography recalls the work of Mendes and Levinson. From costume design to post-production, this is not only a very clean film, but also an enjoyable one.
But beyond the Oscar context, Get Low is arguably too clean. There is nothing rough about this film. It is absolute in its agreeableness. We’re given a few details about Felix’s self-imposed exile to pique our interest, but then all is revealed in the expository finale. It’s a fine set-piece, but it comes in a flash and the story seems to skip a beat as it overlooks subplots. Ultimately, however, Get Low will satisfy those who want to know a secret in full. For the rest of us, I ask: Is it possible to have too much closure?
