Review by Eric Hillis
Directed by: Max Train
Starring: Dylan Beatch, Paulina Munoz, James R. Cowley, Adam Klassen, Yumi Nagashima
If you enjoyed the 2021 Nicolas Cage vehicle Pig and have been looking out for a movie with a similar vibe, writer/director Max Train has you covered with his feature debut James. It shares both Pig's Pacific NorthWest setting (this time north of the border in Vancouver) and its theme of a beaten down protagonist traversing a city's underbelly as he tries to get back the one thing that kept him centred, in this case a racing bike.
That Train has chosen a bicycle as his film's macguffin is a nod to the enduring influence of Vittorio de Sica's Italian neo-realist classic Bicycle Thieves, but despite James' monochrome cinematography it veers closer to absurdism than realism. In de Sica's film the protagonist needed to get his bike back for the sake of his livelihood, whereas the title character here (played by co-writer Dylan Beatch) relies on it to keep him from falling apart.
At the start of the movie James is a nihilistic young man who likes to get drunk and start fights, usually ending with him taking a beating. Dumped by his girlfriend when she finally grows tired of his immature ways, James picks a fight with a couple of Japanese restaurant cooks and is once again beaten to a pulp. Thrown in the trash in a nearby alley, James finds a discarded bicycle that's as battered as himself. Taking it home to his one-bed room in a homeless shelter, James fixes it up and finds that cycling finally brings him the clarity and peace of mind he's been searching for. It even allows him to get a job as a courier.
All is going well for James until villainous bicycle collector Valentin DeWolfe (Brady Corbet lookalike James Cowley) spots the bike and identifies it as a rare and highly valuable piece from 1940s Italy known as "The Ricci." When James refuses to sell, DeWolfe hires an Irish thug (Adam Klassen with the most hilariously impenetrable Oirish accent since Brad Pitt in Snatch) to swipe the bike.
The ensuing narrative is a knowing riff on classic film noir, with James embarking on an investigation to get his beloved bike back that sees him encounter a variety of femmes fatale, concrete fisted henchmen (and one henchwoman in DeWolfe's long-suffering but loyal sister Michelle, played by Paulina Munoz) and slimy aristocrats, all while being constantly beaten black and blue. James also reworks the central conceit of Superman II, that of the hero being unable to fight back, though here it's because James has voluntarily sworn off violence. Much of the comedy comes from James allowing himself to be kicked around like a football on a Brazilian beach. There's almost a Looney Tunes quality to the amount of abuse James takes.
But beneath the cartoonish veneer and collection of hardboiled stereotypes there's a rare humanity in Train's film. The movie takes great pains to let us know that James isn't the only character here who has been beaten down by life. Even the big baddy, DeWolfe, has a tragic childhood backstory that garners our sympathy. Despite limited screen time, the movie makes a real character out of Michelle, who is essentially the Oddjob to her brother's Goldfinger. The burden she feels as her brother's protector is palpable, and at one point the film takes an illuminating diversion to spend a few minutes with her as she seeks solace in a ballet class.
James is an offbeat antidote to traditional revenge thrillers, one in which its wronged protagonist steadfastly avoids resorting to violence in his quest. In the lead role, Beatch has a rare combination of ruggedly handsome features and a sadsack quality that makes him the ideal neo-noir lead. Sometimes fate puts a stick in your spokes, but James suggests that you just have to get back on the saddle and keep riding.
