Anyone who has spent any amount of time with a paramedic will know that it is a career path made for those who are not only physically at their peak, but also willing to handle the mental strain that comes with this profession. It’s quite obvious that saving lives can take a psychological toll on those who decide to enter into this field of work, and it is certainly not made for those who aren’t able to take on the seemingly insurmountable challenges that come with it. Jean-Stephane Sauvaire is fascinated by this topic, since his second directorial outing centres on the relationship between a medical student who begins working as a first responder after failing his entrance exams and is soon paired with a grizzled veteran of the service, the two become close and developing a bond that helps them both navigate this often treacherous and terrifying line of work. A harsh, complex and deeply unnerving drama that is as unforgiving as it is bleak, Asphalt City (which changed its title from Black Flies, which refers to a recurring motif in the film that is perhaps the most disturbing in an already quite harrowing story) is an essential film that tells the story of a group of people who have committed their lives to save those of others, which is a daunting experience that proves to be enough to break the spirits of even the most optimistic of souls. By no means a perfect film for reasons that will be outlined momentarily, but still audacious enough to capture our attention and maintain our focus, the film is incredibly poignant in ways that are quite unexpected. While Sauvaire is not always the most consistent director, this film proves to show a lot of promise, even if a stronger filmmaker may have been able to iron out some of the more notable creases that prevent it from reaching its full potential.

Asphalt City announces itself very quickly as quite a brutal film – the opening scene features the aftermath of a gang shooting, where our protagonists scramble to save as many lives as they can, with the discovery that they cannot save them all being the alarming realization that the younger of the two main characters encounters almost immediately. Sauvaire does not hold back in terms of what he chooses to show on screen. The overall style of the film is reminiscent of several different genres, evoking the bleak, nihilistic cynicism of Eastern European cinema with the deeply haunting imagery of contemporary realism, where all illusion of grandeur and excess is removed in favour of a more haunting depiction of everyday life. This is what the film essentially constructs itself as being, simply a series of moments in the lives of these two men as they clock in shifts, doing their best to save the lives of those who depend on them, being the first line of response in just about any emergency. Whether dealing with people who are on the precipice of death or being called in for more trivial matters, such as removing hostile residents from places where they shouldn’t be, the film shows their daily routine but gradually peels away the layers to reveal the sometimes unsettling realities that they have to face almost every day. The structure is very simple, and the best asset of Asphalt City is that it never once attempts to be deeper or more complex than it needs to be. Instead, the director works closely with screenwriters Ben Mac Brown and Ryan King to adapt the novel by Shannon Burke, which is designed to be a more authentic deconstruction of the trials and tribulations of parademics, particularly in showing how, despite the repetition of being in a career that relies on shifts and routine, nothing can be anticipated, and that the most unexpected moments are those that can push them to their limits.

Sauvaire is profoundly fortunate that he managed to get two very strong actors to play the leading roles in Asphalt City, since without dedicated performers who fit these parts, the film would have fallen apart, especially considering how much emphasis is placed on the underlying character-based details. Sean Penn and Tye Sheridan are very specific kinds of actors, and neither one of them is known to be particularly versatile or defined by the diversity of the roles they play. However, this film was designed around them as actors, and they both happen to fit the archetypes from which the two main characters are built. Sheridan thrives at playing these quiet young men who are heroic but struggle to articulate their desire to make a difference, and his more subdued style of acting is a good fit for the part of Ollie Cross, who acts as our guide through this story and whose perspective is the one we follow most closely. He’s much more subtle, which is understandable considering he is the audience surrogate, and instead, the majority of the dramatic material is handed to Penn, who surprisingly turns in his best performance in years. The very definition of an actor who often falls victim to his intensity, Penn is always best when he is doing slightly more measured work, and the role of Gene Rutkovsky is the perfect example of the kinds of parts he is born to play – intense and complex, but never entirely reliant on mannerisms or bold expressions of emotion, Penn sets aside some of the hysterics that we would normally expect from such a performance, and instead delivers a complex, deeply moving portrait of a man struggling to keep his life together, hiding the fact that he is at the very end of his tether, and who uses the opportunity to bond with the newest recruit as a chance to pass on his wisdom, knowing that his time is limited. Both performances are very strong, and the director draws out the best side of both actors, who deliver powerful, poignant work that is much more compelling than the film sometimes warrants.

However, as promising as it may seem at a distance, Asphalt City has some severe flaws that prevent it from actually realizing the majority of its potential, which is an upsetting realization considering how strong it seemed at certain points. The best parts of the film are those that focus on the growing relationship between the two protagonists, particularly in how the older of the pair becomes something of a mentor to the newest addition to the team, serving as a guide through this perilous, challenging world. Everything revolving around their daily routine, particularly their interactions with members of the public, is exceptionally strong and adds a lot of nuance to this film, and had it focused exclusively on these elements, there’s no doubt the film would have been much stronger. Unfortunately (and this is not entirely the fault of the director or screenwriters, but rather something that is contained in the novel and isn’t translated to screen as well as it should have been), the second-act crisis that pushes us to the final portion of the film is quite weak, not in terms of narrative purpose (since it is one of the tensest and horrifying moments in the entire film), but because the film loses its footing and becomes less about exploring the relationship between these two men, and instead devolves into a slightly overwrought bundle of moments that don’t quite feel all that cohesive. Additionally, while the primary focus is the younger of the two protagonists, he is not particularly interesting on his own, so the attempts to develop him in isolation as some valiant, deeply complex individual is not all that effective, especially since it comes at the expense of Penn’s character, who is much more interesting and who ultimately had the more compelling arc. None of this is enough to entirely dismiss all merit from the film, but it instead prevents it from entirely reaching a place of genuine complexity in terms of the character dynamic, and instead, it defaults to becoming a relatively conventional crisis drama more than the fascinating character study it seemed to be at the outset.

Simply by reading the premise, it is clear that Asphalt City is not a film for the faint of heart. Its an uncompromisingly bleak, unforgiving psychological drama about two men committed to their careers, so much so that they begin to see their mental health eroding at a rapid pace, and discover that no amount of therapy or introspection can ever allow them to fully escape the images that will haunt them for the rest of their lives, their memories being filled with the most gruesome, macabre sights that anyone has seen, and while eventually pushes them to the edge of their sanity. Yet, they continue to serve their community, knowing that saving lives is more important than lamenting those who were lost. It’s never an easy film to watch – Sauvaire consistently refuses to avert the camera from the violence and suffering that these characters encounter, and the sometimes explicit content can be difficult to witness. However, none of it ever feels exploitative, and absolutely every moment is essential in a way that serves the underlying themes. It’s a fascinating film, and it tackles important subject matter in a way that never comes across as heavy-handed when it is executed well. Unfortunately, it begins to fall apart midway through when the story starts to shift away from the episodic nature of the plot and becomes more focused on streamlining a particular storyline, which is powerful in theory but doesn’t highlight the best aspects of the film overall. Not without merit or flaw, Asphalt City is a solid effort with many strong moments. Even at its most prosaic, it has a unique sense of what it wants to achieve, and with slightly more tinkering, it may have been able to achieve it without too much difficulty.