Thunder Road (2018)

6Despite my better judgment, but I want to start this review with a personal story that bears great relevance to the subject of this review – it was 2014, and Bruce Springsteen was on his Wrecking Ball tour, taking his beautiful work around the world, including to my neck of the woods. It was a rainy Saturday evening, and he was near the end of his nearly four-hour long concert. I have admired The Boss for as long as I can remember, and seeing him live in concert was unlike anything I had ever experienced. My grandmother had died only three days before, and her love of music was the only reason I chose to fight the tears and attend the concert, and it led to one of the most beautiful moments of my young life. Rain was pouring, the lights were bright, the crowd was roaring – and Springsteen stepped out onto the front of the stage, drenching himself in the storm flowing down, and he began singing “Thunder Road”, a song with such powerful, impactful lyrics about life, and living it without any hesitations or inhibitions. Needless to say, when watching Thunder Road, the title (and song from which it was derived), I was struck by the similarities between this film and my experience on that life-changing evening. Yet, even if we move away from the personal connection I have with this film, we need to view Thunder Road as nothing short of one of this year’s most astonishing achievements – an independent film in every sense of the word, a beautiful ode to life and death, a celebration of the experience of simply being alive, and a resoundingly powerful debut from Jim Cummings, whose audacity and brilliance in making this film confirm him as one of independent cinema’s most essential and exciting new voices. Thunder Road is a film that is humble in execution, towering in intention, and it would be foolish if we didn’t recognize this as one of this year’s best films.

Officer Jim Arnaud loved his mom. The film opens with her funeral, and he delivers a passionate eulogy, culminating in an interpretative dance meant to be set to the aforementioned “Thunder Road”, a song with which our protagonist mentions he shared a special fondness with his mother. What should’ve been seen as a powerful expression of despair and heartbreak at losing a loved one makes Jim appear to be volatile, unstable and somewhat reckless, a laughingstock of the community who sees his grief as some form of a public breakdown. Even worse, he is undergoing a wrenching divorce, which threatens to tear him away from his daughter who he absolutely adores, and does his best to connect with, despite her hesitations. His life is in shambles, but he does his best to smile through the pain – but it’s useless to try and convince others that everything is going well when they refuse to believe you, which is a lesson Jim learns the hard way. His attempts to navigate the complexities of life are frequently derailed by misunderstandings and various obstacles that prevent him from actually reaping the results of his well-intentioned good deeds. Can Officer Jim Arnaud – in spite of the death of his mother, the disconnected relationship he has with his daughter, the heartbreaking divorce thrust on him by his addict wife, and colleagues who don’t take him seriously – find a way to thrive and survive in this modern world?

These are the questions posed by Cummings in his explosive feature directorial debut. To call Thunder Road a passion project is an understatement – he served as writer, director, editor of the film, as well as working on some of the visual effects and composing some of the music. Most significantly, Cummings takes on the main role as Jim Arnaud, and I must admit that his portrayal of the character is amongst the year’s strongest. I came away thinking of Thunder Road as some form of cinematic performance art (helped in no short fact by the credit that the film as “performed by Jim Cummings”) – in many ways, we could consider Thunder Road to be Cummings’ interpretation of his own unique vision, taking hold of every aspect of the film in order to convey his specific ideas in a way that would not get lost had it been in the control of someone who perhaps didn’t share the same concepts. The film is carried entirely on the strength of Cummings’ performance, and even if we put the film as a whole aside, his performance is absolutely incredible, and there is not any doubt in my mind that not only is Thunder Road amongst the year’s best films, Cummings may just give the performance of the year.

Jim Arnaud is not a particularly likeable character in the traditional sense of the word – he is a police officer, one whose dedication to his job has resulted in him achieving decoration for his contributions to the community, but his current situation seems to throw him out of balance, resulting in less-ideal work on his behalf. He is also not a particularly interesting man – his skills are limited, and he doesn’t appear to have many hobbies that would qualify him as being entirely noteworthy. He is little more than just an ordinary man going about his life, trying to regain his balance in this period of volatile instability. It is through Cummings’ spirited performance that Jim Arnaud is transformed into one of the year’s most compelling characters, a man who is doing his best and hoping to see the results. This is a delicate, nuanced portrayal of a man governed by two central concepts that are constantly in conflict: first is his anxiety and insecurity, with a set of tragic events causing him to become emotionally-unstable, with his mental health constantly being compromised in his effort to lead a normal life. Secondly is his drive to be the best possible person he can be – for the sake of his community that deserves the most dedicated, loyal police officer that they can, for his daughter who deserves the most loving father she can have, and for himself, because in the end, Jim Arnaud is an ordinary man who deserves a pleasant life, and the recent cataclysmic events threaten to derail his life and push him into a place of despair, which he is determined to not allow. Thunder Road is undeniably a labour of love on behalf of Cummings, whose performance is truly extraordinary, and stands as one of the year’s most pleasant surprises.

Thunder Road is a beautiful film about the importance of emotions and the freedom to express them in a way that is truthful in spite of the chastisement one would get from those around us. The film is a complex, sensitive portrayal of life and death, and the difficult process of fighting adversity in the way that we best know. It is a believable work, and there is not a single moment throughout the entirety of the film that feels inauthentic in any way. The situations our protagonist finds himself in are realistic (almost uncomfortably so), the characters and their actions are genuine, and the emotions conveyed in this film are endlessly truthful and often extraordinarily heartbreaking, but not without some humour, because Thunder Road doesn’t strive to be a film that only looks at one man trying so hard to avoid his life falling apart – it is a tragicomic odyssey of self-realization and understanding the importance of expressing your emotions, and most imperatively acting on them in a way that helps one move forward. It has a strong satirical basis, but is never mean-spirited or sardonic, commenting on the nature of social order and the debate between conventions and instinct, especially in periods of mourning. Cummings crafts an honest depiction of grief in Thunder Road, demonstrating how an individual is forced to find the strength to live their life to the best of their abilities, despite the crushing emotional turmoil they feel internally. The film can often be extremely uncomfortable, and there is no shortage of awkward moments, but they serve to be representations of the grieving process, displaying how tough it can be to overcome personal tragedy.

There is something so profoundly inspiring about Thunder Road, which can be found in how incredibly unapologetically independent this film was. Cummings worked on nearly every aspect of this film and evolving it from a critically-acclaimed short film, he crafts a powerful, enriching depiction of the lives of ordinary people presented in a way that is compelling. This is the kind of story that belongs in the hands of independent filmmakers because very few mainstream films can construct something so raw and emotionally-inert. Thunder Road is a riveting achievement, both visually and narratively, and its fierce independence is its most impactful merit. Cummings has managed to effortlessly combine comedy and drama, finding the humour in the most hopeless situations, and lending emotional gravitas to moments that would otherwise be inconsequential. He finds the root of human emotion throughout the course of his film, exploring some intimately complex themes with a blend of poignant emotion and endearing charm. Thunder Road is not a film with a particularly significant plot – it is a relatively simple story about a man navigating life, trying to be a good father and a model citizen, but encountering a number of problems along the way to tranquillity, but he always manages to make the best of his situation through inevitable optimism.

I adored Thunder Road – it is most certainly one of the year’s best films, an independent masterwork that strikes the viewer so deeply with its powerful, poignant emotional content. It is joyful and tragic in equal measure, finding a way to be outrageously hilarious and deeply moving, not wavering from its clear intention to incite laughter and to break our hearts as we experience this complex, beautifully-composed work. Thunder Road is a poetic ode to the pratfalls of existence, and it towers above many other films of its ilk due to its earnest, genuine heart and its nuanced execution. Here’s a bold assertion – Jim Cummings may just be the future of independent filmmaking, and I will personally be waiting in anxious anticipation for his next project, which will doubtlessly be as extraordinary as Thunder Road was. This is a true gem of a film and the epitome of why I adore independent cinema.

Leave a comment