Redbelt
Every con needs a mark, and in his latest shell game, David Mamet comes up with a doozy: an impossibly noble, African-American military veteran who teaches jiu-jitsu and lives by a samurai code. Mike Terry (Chiwetel Ejiofor) refuses to participate in mixed martial arts competitions because taking money to fight is by definition corrupt. And he showers his customers in charity because he can’t stop at teaching them how to defend themselves — he has to teach them how to live. It’s a good thing Mamet cast Ejiofor in the lead role, because he oozes decency and empathy like no other actor today. Thanks to his effortless conviction, you almost believe that a person like Mike could exist, somewhere. Mamet adds a pinch of grit by dropping hints about Mike’s past: the suggestion, through a conversation with another vet, that Mike has seen some harrowing combat; and Mike’s assertion that he used to drink but doesn’t anymore. (At one point a Hollywood producer (Joe Mantegna) walks out on Mike at dinner and leaves a glass of red wine on the table; Mike sits there for hours, and Ejiofor communicates the enormous self-control it requires not to take a sip.)
“Redbelt” being a Mamet movie, of course, people with hidden agendas will conspire against Mike, setting him up for a big fall. Mamet lays the groundwork nicely, introducing a gamey collection of supporting characters: a burned-out, middle-aged movie star (Tim Allen); his oily producer (Mantegna); a drug-addicted rape-victim attorney (Emily Mortimer); a brooding police officer (Max Martini); and Mike’s business-minded Brazilian wife (Alice Braga). “Redbelt” builds quietly, establishing small, intriguing conflicts between these principals. Then, in a dizzying 10-minute sequence, it pulls the rug out from under Mike. The trajectory is clear: Mike will have to enter the ring and somehow find honor there. But along the way, Mamet loses his sense of pace and timing. He also struggles to sell you on the marriage of Mike and Sondra (Braga). Mamet doesn’t write relationships between people; he writes transactions, and with these two, it’s painfully clear that neither is buying what the other is selling. How did they hook up in the first place? Attractive as they are — Braga creates an erotic simmer just by changing into a simple, strapless blue cotton dress — their union strains credulity. Sondra’s actions ought to carry emotional consequences, but she’s cold and so is the filmmaker. I don’t know if Mamet will ever find emotional resonance to go with his intricate plotting, crisp images and beautifully oblique dialogue. Nonetheless, his talents are obvious. “Redbelt” is skilled and finely textured, and you’re never completely detached; you root for Mike, and for the movie.