Culture cannot exist without community. A population can only become something meaningful if everyone within it comes together to form a group that functions as a single collective, consisting of many different stories that weave together to create a vibrant tapestry of humanity. Many artists have explored the power of community as not only a social concept, but as a psychological and philosophical one as well, particularly because there is no shortage of stories that can be borne from such a phenomenon, regardless of the place and time in which the conversation is being conducted. This serves as the preamble that inspired God’s Pocket, in which John Slattery (who is more well-known as one of the most consistently great character actors of his generation) makes his directorial debut, adapting the novel of the same title by Pete Dexter, which tells the story of a group of people living within the fictional suburb of God’s Pocket, a working-class neighbourhood somewhere in Philadelphia, known for (as one of the main characters quite contentiously states) for its “dirty-faced and uneducated” population, indicating this is a community that prioritizes hard work well over the elegance and sophistication of other corners of society. The film centres on the exploits of Mickey, one of the many blue-collar workers, following the death of his stepson,, an event that shocks the entire community, not in the least because of the circumstances surrounding his demise, which is cited as being the result of a workplace accident, but in reality was done in a fit of anger by a co-worker. Mickey has to find a way to pay for the funeral, scrounging around the community in the hopes of getting some money by any means necessary, which brings him into contact with a variety of eccentric characters, particularly those who exist in proximity to the criminal underworld that ultimately governs the neighbourhood. A relatively simple affair that does have its shortcomings, but still proves to be a solid debut for a veteran actor looking to move into other roles in the industry, God’s Pocket has its moments of ingenuity and carries itself with a balance of heart and wit, enough to compensate for some of its notable flaws.

Based on the premise, God’s Pocket does prove to be quite an intriguing project, especially considering this was Slattery’s first foray into directing, which usually would only occur when an actor is willing to leap into directing, or they find material that ignites such passion that they feel like only they can capture its nuances. Dexter is a fascinating figure, with his transition from journalist to novelist being a compelling story in its own right, and we can find traces of it in this film, which does its best to adapt his novel, bringing it to life but also maintaining the spirit of his unique prose. The themes at the heart of this film are quite clear from its earliest moments – the introduction places us right in the heart of this community as they grieve the loss of one of their own, before taking us back a few days and filling in the gaps, shading in the characters and giving them some sense of complexity. God’s Pocket is a film based around community, and shows the residents of a neighbourhood as they attempt to simply survive, which is to them defined as the act of being able to get through the workday and unwind with a cold beer and a gaggle of like-minded peers. It’s a simple life, and the impetus for the film as a whole, which benefits wholeheartedly from a very precise attention to detail, particularly in how it captures a time and place in vivid detail. The story being set within a working-class neighbourhood is not only the result of the film being an adaptation of Dexter’s novel, but also something deeper, which speaks to the director’s fascination with exploring a community of people living on the margins – even the name of the suburb hints at a kind of offbeat eccentricity that is often found in these quaint hamlets, and in exploring the lives of people who may exist on the breadline, but yet remain united and find happiness in the most unexpected of places, makes for a moving testament to the human condition. Some of the themes are understandably quite harsh and difficult to comprehend at times, but there are valuable ideas lurking beneath the surface.

One of the benefits of being an actor venturing into directing is the connections made along the way, and many fellow actors tend to be quite generous when working under one of their peers’ direction. Slattery has been working for a long time and has clearly earned a solid reputation, enough to attract quite a strong cast to appear in his debut. The film is anchored by Philip Seymour Hoffman (in the final film released during his lifetime, a very sad thought that comes across our mind while watching his performance), and he is as wonderful as ever – it’s difficult to imagine many other actors being able to capture such a beautiful sense of humanity in a part that is so incredibly harsh and callous. Hoffman brings a level of warmth and honesty to the part that we find reflects the values of both the film and his principles as an actor. There was no one like him, and even in a relatively minor work such as God’s Pocket, he shines brighter than most of his contemporaries. Joining him are John Turturro, who might have quite a one-dimensional character to play, but finds the nuances that elevate the role higher than we may have expected. Richard Jenkins is the de facto audience surrogate, portraying the conflicted journalist who integrates himself into this community, being warmly welcomed with his promise of giving them the showcase they deserve, but finding his perception criticised after it becomes clear that he looks at this group of people as inferior to his own intellectual status, which leads to a lot of conflict. Christina Hendricks (who had worked with Slattery for years on Mad Men), Joyce Van Patten, Eddie Marsan and Glenn Fleshler are amongst the actors that round out the ensemble, playing very important parts that may not have much to do on screen, but serve vital purposes in progressing the story, as well as enriching the central performances that ultimately drive ths film forward and give it such a layered atmosphere.

The approach Slattery takes to Dexter’s novel (which is quite a layered text, and one that doesn’t easily lend itself to a visual adaptation) is quite interesting, having a sense of artistic complexity that is often challenging to process, but which only makes it more captivating when it strikes the right balance between its tone and narrative. Slattery attempts to evoke a specific kind of theatricality, the kind usually found in a lot of plays, particularly the works of people like Eugene O’Neill and Arthur Miller, both of whom wrote beautiful works about the day-to-day lives of people existing on the margins and simply trying to make it through life. In many ways, God’s Pocket does play like a film we’d expect to find produced in the 1970s, with its grit and rawness being far more appropriately suited for the New Hollywood movement and its tendency towards more brutally honest depictions of life on the edges of society. However, it’s in this approach that we find the film faltering – Slattery is not quite sure of what he wants this film to be, toggling between a character-based melodrama in which a large group of individuals find their stories overlapping over the course of a few days, or instead a more subtle, atmospheric parable that aims to convey a particular message. While the film can be both, it is too limited in scope to actually achieve it meaningfully, which leads to the story leaping between the two and not finding much cohesion in between, which is the main reason the film doesn’t feel entirely convincing, especially towards the end, where we would expect it to tie everything together but instead moves in a lateral direction and brings us to an interesting but still quite lacklustre conclusion that doesn’t say when was clearly intended. The good ideas at the heart of God’s Pocket are interesting enough to draw us in, but they’re not maintained in the way they perhaps deserved, and while Slattery does show a solid prowess as a filmmaker, a stronger directorial voice could have turned this material into something far more captivating.

God’s Pocket is a peculiar curio of a film, but not one that is entirely unwelcome – it takes many bold swings, and while some of them may not work out as intended, the ambition behind them is at least quite admirable, and allows us to develop a real fondness for the material, even when we may not see the value in absolutely everything being said throughout the film. Slattery makes an ambitious debut by adapting this novel, doing his best to create a faithful retelling of Dexter’s poignant examination of the working class and their daily struggles, as well as the small triumphs that they occasionally encounter. The film straddles the line between comedy and tragedy exceptionally well – it may not be funny enough to make the humorous interludes register as anything more than an attempt to break the monotony of the more dour aspects of the narrative, but it also refuses to be bathed entirely in melancholy, being focused on celebrating this community more than it attempts to seek pity for the individuals who choose to live more simple existences. The creativity demonstrated in the director’s efforts to tell this story, combined with a terrific cast playing a range of colourful characters that make up this strong ensemble, allows us to momentarily overlook the more lacklustre aspects of the narrative. God’s Pocket ultimately delivers exactly what it promises, and through staying true to its premise, it manages to be far more effective than it could have been had it been handled by someone without as much affection for the material. Slattery doesn’t manage to iron out absolutely every crease, but he does enough to keep us engaged, which is more than sufficient for such a quiet but meaningful socio-cultural endeavour.