Eastern Promises

Eastern Promises is perhaps the best movie I've seen so far this year, a gritty, suspenseful immersion into a culture I knew nothing about. Director David Cronenberg follows up his A History of Violence with an even better glimpse into a world that is run by men of violence, in which sprouts of humanity can grow like weeds through asphalt.

Eastern Promises is set in a London that, as with many large cities like New York and Toronto, have large populations of people who are not Anglo, and where many languages are spoken. A pregnant girl who speaks Russian wanders into a Pakistani-run pharmacy, bleeding profusely. The girl dies, but her baby is saved, and the midwife who works at the hospital, played by Naomi Watts, takes a special interest. The girl left a diary, and Watts' character, who is part Russian, gives it to her uncle to translate. Inside the diary was a business card for a Russian-cuisine restaurant, and trying to do the right thing, Watts pays a visit. Big mistake, as it turns out she is about to come in contact with the Russian mob.

The Russian mob has been featured in films before (I seem to remember a film, the title of which is escaping me, which was set in Brighton, New York, which has a large Russian population) but I've never seen an English-language picture go this deeply into the culture. The restaurant owner, played in a menacingly slippery manner by Armin Muehler-Stahl, is the head honcho. He has a son, Vincent Cassel, who is a loose cannon, and relies more on a "driver," a stolid machine of man, played by Viggo Mortensen. When Muehler-Stahl gets wind that the girl, who was only fourteen years old, left a diary, the wheels of violence are set in motion, as it may be evidence which would impact his trafficking in sex workers.

Cronenberg, who has long been admired for creating some of the creepiest films of all time, is a master at making almost every scene in this picture have an underlying tension. Peril and menace infuse every frame. There is a lot of blood spilled in this film, none of it cartoonishly. Toward the end of the picture Mortensen is attacked by two men while he is naked in a steam room, and the fight is one of the more vicious I've seen in recent memory.

Like I said, I know nothing about the Russian mob, but it sure seems authentic in this picture. Muehler-Stahl is terrifically evil, while Cassel is also good as a man-child. Mortensen, however, is great as the stoic enforcer. He may be a stone-cold killer, but something in the back of his eyes tell you there's something more to him, which is borne out by events in the picture. I hope he is remembered when award nominations roll around.

The only quibble I have with the picture is the ending. The film more or less stops. There are implications of a resolution, but I would have preferred to see a minute or two more to let me know for sure. I suppose Cronenberg would allow us some sentimentality, but not a complete catharsis. That objection aside, this will certainly be on my list as one of the best films of the year.