The Next Three Days

The Next Three Days is a very taut thriller from writer/director/freaky Scientologist Paul Haggis. Russell Crowe stars as John Brennan, a college professor married to Lara (Elizabeth Banks). The Brennan's are the happily married parents of Luke, an adorable little towhead who doesn't say much. At all. Throughout the entire movie. Lara gets accused, then convicted of a brutal murder for which she is serving life in prison. John, convinced of his wife's innocence, consults with a salty former criminal (Liam Neeson) to find out just how to bust wifey out of the clink. We watch as John becomes consumed with plotting the prison break and subsequent escape with his family. Haggis crafted the script from a previous version (Pour Elle) by writers Fred Cavaye and Guillaume Lemans. The dialogue is tolerable, but when a high-caliber actor isn't at the helm, some of the lines feel very Law and Order: Special Dipshits Unit.
In terms of acting, Russell Crowe is, as always, excellent. He is intense and focused as a man consumed by the singular purpose of saving his wife. Elizabeth Banks is the biggest surprise, as she has displayed serious comedic talent in films like Zack and Miri Make a Porno and The 40-Year-Old Virgin, but this marks the first time we get a sense of the depth she is truly capable of. Banks is also incredibly beautiful, insuring that if she keeps on keepin', she will have the gift of longevity that so many actors lust after. Both Liam Neeson and Brian Dennehy are far too sparse in their appearances. In fact, Dennehy doesn't have more than ten lines and is still able to convey more with those paltry ten than most actors can in entire careers.
While The Next Three Days is a fast-paced and well executed thriller, there is a a glaring issue that must be addressed. This film is part of a recent spate of movies that have asked the audience to root for a protagonist whose goal is, at its heart, fundamentally amoral. I felt this way about Inception, which while visually and psychologically arresting, was also centered around a premise that had less than lofty ends to its means. John Brennan remains stalwart in his belief that his wife Lara did not commit the murder for which she is convicted. He thus feels it is justifiable to break her out of prison (without consulting her), endangering both of their lives as well as the life of their son. When Brennan meets with Liam Neeson's Damon Pennington, Pennington warns that even worse than capture is the fear of capture. Pennington tells Brennan that though his own escapes were successful, he ultimately gave himself up because he couldn't take "worrying about who was coming through the bedroom door". We are left to think that if Brennan does succeed in freeing his wife and fleeing the country, he will be tormented by his own version of prison for the rest of his life.
My Comment strives to open up a discourse on this seemingly new facile and flexible moral message we are being fed lately. Even if Lara Brennan is innocent, it is still permissible for her husband to break her out of jail? Furthermore, why are we as an audience still rooting for someone who commits deplorable crimes in order to achieve said prison break. Unlike film noir, which paints a portrait of a flawed protagonist who commits questionable acts, this movie does not show its main character showing any sort of remorse for his transgressions. In addition, Paul Haggis doesn't give us any balance in terms of true and real sacrifice made on the part of John Brennan. We are left with questions about what will happen to Brennan from an emotional point of view, but in my opinion, it's not enough to level the ethical seesaw. Does this new Robin Hood prototype have to do with the economic crisis? Do writers feel that people struggling in this country will sympathize with characters who act without real consequences? If so, it is truly a perversion of the type of films that Charlie Chaplin made in order to appeal to the less fortunate masses. Chaplin knew that the lower and middle class filmgoer would always enjoy seeing the richies getting a kick in the pants. It made for good storytelling. But Chaplin never crossed the line by allowing his disadvantaged hero to veer into unethical territory without serious repercussions. I hope we haven't veered off course. Because what is Hollywood known for if not for being motivated by ethics?