Sometimes we come across a story that truly embodies the adage that reality is often stranger than fiction. This is perfectly represented in the case of Tony Kiritsis, a mild-mannered man living in Indianapolis, beloved by his community and respected by all those he encountered in his daily life. However, after feeling wronged by the actions of a mortgage company, he decided to take matters into his own hands, storming into the office of Meridian Mortgage and kidnapping Richard Hall, the son of the company president (who happened to be in Florida at the time), strapping a gun to his neck, rigged with a “dead man’s wire”, a device that would cause the shotgun to go off if there was any attempt to rescue him by force or effort to escape. Over the course of several hours, Kiritsis and Hall patiently wait for some kind of resolution, while everyone from the police to the local radio host do what they can to observe and diffuse the situation, which they recognise as not only troubling for what it represents (especially when a sentiment in which the public begins to show some support for this supposedly fearless man going up against the system), but also sets a dangerous precedent. This story has been bandied about as a potential film project for years, but it has finally come to fruition in the form of the aptly-titled Dead Man’s Wire, with Gus Van Sant at the helm, working from a screenplay by Austin Kolodney, which dramatises these events in extraordinary detail. Van Sant returns to directing after nearly a decade away from the medium (his most recent offering before this was the ill-fated Don’t Worry He Won’t Get Far on Foot, which seemed to be positioned as his swan song for a while, based on how he seemed to entirely disappear from the director’s chair), and while it may not be a major work in comparison to his masterpieces, it’s nonetheless a tremendously entertaining film that captures every detail of this peculiar story, recreating it to be the foundation of a fascinating blend of character study and psychological thriller, a pairing that works exceptionally well as a result of all the necessary elements being well-crafted and genuinely quite compelling, even at their most conventional.

Over time, there has been one figure that has united everyone in opposition – the metaphorical “man”, which represents an amalgamation of politics, business, religion and every other institution that we feel suppresses us from achieving our goals and which only intends to keep everyone in order. This is the aspect that makes Kiritsis’ story so compelling – whether or not we agree with his actions (and I would hope most would veer towards seeing it as nothing but a petty, overly violent revenge plot that didn’t achieve anything other than causing panic), the reason we’re so compelled is because he was someone who didn’t have any history of violence, but grew so tired of being a victim of the system, he decided to challenge it himself, by any means necessary. Dead Man’s Wire focuses primarily on this aspect, since while the mechanics of the kidnapping and hostage situation are intriguing, it’s not what Kiritsis did that interests us, but rather how he did it. He set out to wreak havoc in the hopes of not only getting what he wanted but to setting an example for anyone else who felt unnecessarily mistreated by those in positions of power. Naturally, all of this does have limitations, which is why we see this film as a more layered affair. However, in an era where people are being hailed as folk heroes for violent actions asserted against those in power – the statement “eat the rich” resonates a lot more when we see how far some people are willing to go to take what they believe is theirs (although violence should never be celebrated or condoned, regardless of motive), which is what Van Sant fixates on throughout this film. There’s something so wonderfully cynical about this film, which doesn’t give us any answers to the more difficult questions, and instead attempts to actively develop its ideas to be more reflective of the actual state of the world, which is something that pushes it beyond an ordinary crime drama, and turns it into something else entirely, an unsettling and challenging work of social commentary, helmed by a director who has shown that this is his motive for several of his films.

Kiritsis’ story is relatively well-known, but more for the circumstances surrounding the events and his method, rather than him as an individual. This slight ambiguity is used in this film’s favour, since there is a lot more space for experimentation than there would normally be had he been seen as a major public figure. This mostly benefits the casting, since Bill Skarsgård is about a decade too young and bears very little physical resemblance to Kiritsis, but it makes no difference, since the strength of his performance is what truly matters. It would be strange to consider this is best performance (since he’s done some extraordinary work), but its impossible to not look at what he is doing here and understand exactly why he is considered one of the true stars of his generation, an actor whose fearlessness is complimented by his ability to entirely redefine the craft, even when given a relatively simple character to play. His interpretation of Kiritsis is fascinating – it feels as if he was simply given the direction to play him as if he was someone entirely unaware of his psychopathy, a man driven to the brink of sanity, but never views himself as being anything other than angry. Skarsgård is tremendous and is the anchor for the entire film, holding our attention from the first moment he appears on screen to the last (and the way Van Sant bookends the film only emphasises the strength of his performance), proving his undeniable skills. The supporting cast is also quite strong – Dacre Montgomery is adequate as the hostage, but considering he is not supposed to do anything other than play into the inherent fear felt by this man, we can understand his more subdued approach. Colman Domingo is as charismatic as ever as the radio host who plays an important role in the film, and Al Pacino is doing some wild accent work as the absent company president who pulls the strings from afar. There’s also a very welcome appearance from Cary Elwes, who has not done much work of note lately, and whose performance is solid. It’s a terrific ensemble, and one that fully represents everything that Van Sant was trying to convey with this simple but evocative film.

By this point in his career, Van Sant does not need to prove anything – no longer are we focused on celebrating innovation, but rather have to attain something much more profound in the process. Van Sant is someone who exists at the perfect intersection between an auteur and journeyman director – he’s got a lot of skill and has made several personal passion projects, but he can also be brought on to bring a script to life without going through the laborious process of putting his stamp on everything. Dead Man’s Wire occupies the latter category for the most part – it’s a simple, straightforward crime drama on the surface, a relatively accurate play-by-play recreation of the 63 hours Kiritsis kept Hall as a hostage, following the events as closely as possible. However, this is not what makes the film intriguing – instead, it’s the additional elements that draw us in and keep us engaged. The best way to describe this film would be as Dog Day Afternoon if it were made by Hal Ashby, since there is a large focus on capturing not only the events, but the spirit of the time and place. The film is filled with eccentric side characters, including the journalists, law enforcement and media representatives, all of whom took an active interest in the case. Rather than being a rapid-fire thriller in which everything is delivered precisely and in order, the film takes a simpler approach. It’s not a gentle film, but there is a lot of nuance in how Van Sant handles the tone. At its core, this is a film about a very volatile man taking his anger out on the world that surrounds him, so presenting it as a subtle, slow-paced drama with many moments of quiet humour seems almost radical in comparison to what we would normally expect. It’s not a major work, but Van Sant certainly puts in the effort to present it as a more engaging, daring work that doesn’t feel restrictive at all, and instead focuses on capturing the right atmosphere, transporting us back to that fateful day in 1977, a relatively minor incident in hindsight, but one that still contains many interesting ideas that are perfectly preserved throughout this film.

There are aspects of Dead Man’s Wire that immediately grab our attention and make it such a wonderfully strange, offbeat version of the crime thriller genre. Van Sant is not someone we usually associate with these films, so it makes sense that he would approach it in a very different manner, capturing the spirit of the time and place better than many of his peers, who we normally would see as more likely for this specific brand of tense, challenging thrillers. He looks at it as a character study more than anything else, an exercise in which he explores every recess of this man’s mind, trying to understand what it takes to push someone, who would otherwise be seen as a law-abiding citizen and valuable member of his community, to such a point where he could cause such havoc. Whether or not the results live up to expectations is up for individual interpretation – some may be bewildered by the softer, gentler tone of this film, while others may appreciate its pure audacity and ability to almost entirely redefine a genre that is normally nothing more than a bundle of curiosities. In either direction, Dead Man’s Wire is unique, a compelling examination of this story, made by someone who prioritises character-based commentary more than anything else, and driven by a sense of genuine curiosity. It is never going to be viewed as Van Sant’s greatest achievement, but rather proof of his incredible skill when it comes to elevating even the most pedestrian of concepts. Bold, unique and never anything short of ambitious in terms of both form and content, and driven by some genuinely wonderful performances, Dead Man’s Wire is one of the year’s most fascinating films, and far more engaging than we would expect based on a cursory glance.