Sometimes when you grow up too close to art, you can’t recognize the art in someone else’s interpretation. That’s much of my problem with Shotgun Stories, Arkansas native Jeff Nichols’ acclaimed view of the fictional Hayes brothers feud in the Arkansas Delta. In my small Mississippi hometown the differences of families like the Hayes were often gossip at the Sunday lunch table. I’ve also read many Southern gothic or gritty South writers. The film was nothing new or groundbreaking to me.
Of course, many gushed over that film, including film critics nationwide and at film festivals, and in Arkansas, but I chalk the latter up to Arkansas-bred aggrandizing, and the former two up to the flyover syndrome, or the views of critics (especially East and West coasts) who see the middle of this grand country as a foreign land. Any art deviating from their standard rural prejudice is often praised by these critics. (See Winter’s Bone, a fine film, but one I merely viewed and thought afterward: “The actions of these characters are nothing I’ve haven’t seen before. It’s not entertainment nor fictional. It’s real life.”)
This is all a long way of disclosing that I began viewing Nichols’ newest film, Take Shelter, with a healthy level of cynicism. After sitting through the two-hour film, I’ll say this: Take Shelter is a magnificent triumph, a film that slowly builds, promising nothing, but slowly unveiling itself and ever tightening its tension.
The slow-burning, psychological drama stars Michael Shannon as blue-collar man Curtis LaForche, a loving husband to wife Samantha (Jessica Chastain) and a doting father to 6-year-old, deaf daughter Hannah (Tova Stewart). The family lives modestly in a small Ohio town, a region lovingly shot by Nichols and crew, richly portraying scenes of early summer. Money’s tight, but Curtis’ insurance is paying for Hannah’s cochlear implant.
And then Curtis suddenly begins suffering from supernatural, foreboding nightmares of some undetermined, apocalyptic storm. The nightmares are first storms on the horizon but soon become more menacing. Curtis’ dog attacks him in one; and he and his daughter are tormented by unknown assailants in others. Soon the nightmares spill over into his home life, affecting his marriage and his work. Curtis wets the bed, hears thunder cracks on clear days and suffers an apparent panic attack when fleeing work before coming to a realization: The abandoned storm shelter in the yard needs expanding because something terrible he can’t explain is coming. He takes out a risky home improvement loan, borrows equipment from work and begins digging.
Samantha and others around Curtis, including his best friend and co-worker Dewart (Shea Whigham) and older brother Kyle (Ray McKinnon), view Curtis’ alarming behavior with apprehension, as does Curtis. A stressful time led to his mom’s breakdown in her 30s, after she was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. Curtis is 35.
The last act of the film is a cataclysmic showdown between Curtis and his mind, and Curtis and his family and community. No spoilers, but it’s an ending one can’t shake for days. The understated Shannon is magnificent throughout, battling his family and friends, and his mind, asking himself if worrying about going crazy makes someone crazy.
Take Shelter is Nichols discussing the harsh times of the world and the anxieties that result from that distress via film. There are no easy answers, only more doom on the horizon.