Certain filmmakers immediately become major successes, viewed as the defining voice of their generation. Others take a bit longer to reach the levels of acclaim and appreciation that their talents deserve. James Gray has always felt like he occupies the latter category, and whether it’s because his films tend to be thornier, more complex character studies that don’t provide the easy answers, or a result of his tendency to work only sporadically, he still feels like a relatively underrated filmmaker, despite the high calibre of his work and his ability to bring together astonishing casts. His most recent film is one of his most intriguing, coming in the form of Paper Tiger, a spiritual sequel to his previous film Armageddon Time, insofar as they’re both stories of young men growing up in Queens in the 1980s, whereby Gray manages to draw from his own personal experiences, having grown up in that same era and environment, and therefore exploring a moment that is surprisingly not frequently shown on screen, at least not in such a vivid and compelling way. The film follows the Pearl family – patriarch Irwin is an engineer who works hard to provide for his family, while his wife Hester is a dedicated stay-at-home mother who does her best to look after their two teenage sons, Scott and Ben, both of whom are at the age where rebellion becomes not only popular, but an absolute necessity. Without warning, Irwin’s older brother Gary re-enters his life after a few years of being absent. Gary, a former New York Police Department officer, has recently retired from the force and now works as a private consultant, relishing the freedom of being a civilian while still quietly being involved with the very people he used to attempt to bring to justice. A promising opportunity requires someone with Irwin’s expertise, which is why Gary approaches him, with the two men planning to get involved with a local group of Russian businessmen who Irwin very quickly learns are not nearly as legitimate as they would hope – and after a momentary act of poor judgement, Irwin and his family soon come to learn that consequences are even more brutal when coming from people who have no qualms with destroying if it means getting revenge. A harrowing exploration of a time and place, filtered through the engaging lens of Gray’s incredible vision, Paper Tiger is a tremendous film, and one that more than earns its place amongst the director’s best works.

When venturing into Gray’s world, it is worth remembering that he is a filmmaker who doesn’t tend to view his stories as being particularly binary, nor does he approach them from a perspective where only one theme drives the narrative. Instead, he crafts layered works that set out to plumb the emotional depths of the human condition, and in the case of Paper Tiger, two core themes initially contradict one another before gradually evolving into something much deeper and more interesting, precisely as a result of how they eventually begin to intersect in very exciting and compelling ways. Much of this is found in the genres that he adopts to tell the story – on one side, we have a complex crime drama, a story of two men who inadvertently run afoul of the Russian mob and find themselves forced to go on the run as a result of getting involved in areas where it would have been better for them to keep their distance. On the other side, we have a family drama in which we’re presented with two people who are doing their best to give their sons a better life by any means necessary, and who find themselves at odds with each other as a result of choices the both of them have made. These are not the only themes that the film explores – there are fascinating discussions around mortality, identity and the economic divide, and while they’re not as central to the narrative as the core subject matter, they still make for exceptionally captivating storytelling, with Gray showing a remarkable aptitude for understanding the inner workings of the human condition from multiple perspectives. Paper Tiger is rich with symbolism, and there are elements in this film’s story that draw us in, often under false pretenses, since we’re gradually growing accustomed to these characters and believe that we have a handle on their situation and know where the story is headed, only for the rug to be pulled out from under us with the arrival of some new, shocking revelation or twist that ultimately throws the entire story into disarray. It can sometimes over-extend itself in terms of how it brings the two narrative strands together, but it is nothing if not entirely purposeful, each element growing into something much deeper and more profound, while also gradually developing its own unique identity, which makes for an incredibly poignant depiction of a family simply trying to survive, not aware of the changes that are about to shake the entire foundation of their strong bond, in terms of both the good and bad.

There is speculation that Paper Tiger was initially envisioned as a more direct sequel to Armageddon Time, based on the setting and the fact that Jeremy Strong and Anne Hathaway were initially approached for the film, after playing similar roles in the previous film. They unfortunately don’t return, but are instead replaced by Miles Teller and Scarlett Johansson, who are certainly not bad choices in terms of the kinds of characters being portrayed here. Teller in particular has never been better – for the past decade, he has been earnestly trying to establish the next stage of his career, since the angst-riddled young man archetype that populated the first few years of his working life was getting quite tedious. He finally delivers a performance that shows the exceptional promise that was present at the start but rarely showcased as time went on – and he manages to be surprisingly paternal as this man who simply wants a better life for his children, even if it means making some very intense sacrifices and putting himself in harm’s way. Johansson doesn’t fare quite as well, which is solely because she struggles to capture the same suburban malaise, and we don’t always find her portrayal of this woman teetering dangerously close to a breakdown to be particularly effective. She nonetheless does what she can, but this performance does expose the flaws in her acting style when it comes to more straightforward dramatic material, especially in how she never truly manages to sell us on the nuances of this character. Finally, the core trio is rounded out by Adam Driver, who delivers maybe the best performance in the film – a man who has chosen his path in life, one that is morally questionable and dangerous, but where the thrill is worth the risk – or rather, it is until he realises how perilous his decisions ultimately become. Driver has not been this loose and interesting in quite some time, and its refreshing to see him set aside the more dour, angry characters that have recently occupied his time, and instead embracing a more eccentric, offbeat character that also has real depth and nuance, coming about as a perfect collaboration between Driver and the director, both of whom put a lot of work into bringing these complex ideas to life on screen.

As we’ve come to realise, it is unwise to take Gray’s work at face value, at least when it comes to building expectations, which relates to both the narrative and its underlying intentions. The themes of Paper Tiger are laid out quite bare, never having to explain what it fully intends to say since anyone can see specifically the message Gray had for the audience. However, what we do discover is that this film is not only thematically rich, but tonally complex and visually quite dynamic. Gray’s gifts are widespread, but one element that has always drawn me to his work is his affection for the cinema of yesteryear, which is reflected in every frame of his films. Few filmmakers have been more inappropriately born outside of an era where they could’ve been making masterpieces as Gray, who has the soul of someone who defined the New Hollywood movement, crafting those unforgettable crime dramas that populated the 1970s, the era where the genre was inarguably at its peak. There is a tonal quality that guides Paper Tiger, one that is reminiscent of a bygone era – the gritty, minimalist style in which dialogue and character development is more of a priority than cinematic innovation, carefully pieced together by a filmmaker who understands that a film like this isn’t just about exploring the criminal activity at the centre of the story, but also the inner architecture of these characters’ minds, which leads to an absolutely enthralling two hours of intricately-woven, complex storytelling that feels vibrant, meaningful and never anything short of absolutely exhilarating. Gray understands implicitly that a visually dazzling approach may pique our curiosity, but it will not have much lasting power, at least not over the style he chooses to take, which is a more bare-boned, direct exploration of the past. The production design itself is a marvel, containing some of the most subtle but memorable depictions of the 1980s, and it is clear that the director is pulling from his own memories, which interweave with the intricate camera work (which is absolutely stunning in its own way – there’s a climactic moment towards the end of the film that is amongst the most striking in Gray’s entire career) to create a poetic, engaging examination of these characters as they attempt to make their way through everyday life. It also never has to resort to the more obvious emotions, choosing instead to approach the material in a more subtle, purposeful way – and the results are absolutely tremendous, even at their most supposedly predictable, which we’ve already noted is an intentional choice on the part of the director, designed to mislead the viewer into thinking the film is going in one direction, when in reality it relishes in going in the other.

At first, Paper Tiger seems like the kind of film that doesn’t really have much of a purpose – there’s very little actual social commentary, which has become a supposed sign of weakness for the crime thriller genre, since these films tend to be slathered in meaning and subtext that relate directly to the present day (and it’s not a case of Gray not being interested in these themes – Armageddon Time is very much a thinly-veiled allegory for contemporary issues in addition to being a semi-autobiographical piece), which can sometimes make them too dense and unwieldy. However, as we venture further into this film, we begin to realise just how interesting so many of its themes are, to the point where its refusal to actually be anything more than a well-made character study about family, identity and society becomes one of its core merits. It has a lingering sense of melancholy that is perfectly woven into the fabric of the story, which becomes less about saying something profound and more about investigating the lives of people simply trying to survive. It touches on a number of more intense ideas on occasion, particularly those surrounding mortality and the volatility of life (some of the most harrowing moments in this film come not from violence, but rather the more painful, unpredictable nature of existence, where someone can be robbed of life for doing nothing but living), and ties them all together into a poignant family saga that has no shortage of complexities simmering beneath the surface. There are moments of genuine complexity that guide the film, but it’s the simplest ideas that leave the biggest impression, which is ultimately what makes Gray such an intriguing filmmaker. It may not be the bold swing of The Lost City of Z or Ad Astra (and I would absolutely love him to venture into another major genre, with both of those films being exceptional), but it has its merits that gradually grow into something more profound the more time we spend with this story. Anchored by an incredible script, strong performances and a genuine sense of curiosity in terms of how it looks at the human condition, Paper Tiger is a smart, meaningful character-based drama that manages to be complex without relying too heavily on subtext, growing into a film that more than earns our respect and admiration, not despite its straightforward nature, but instead directly as a result of it, since it indicates that there is nothing quite as fulfilling as a simple story told well.