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Well I liked it, but then I’m susceptible to religious-themed
horror. The Exorcist, The Omen —these sorts
of movies keep me far more spooked and wide-awake at night
than any number of H.R. Giger creatures, enjoyable
as they are. Think about it. Even if you’re not the church-going,
hymn-singing type, what kinds of horrors do we actually see
in the real world? Malevolent computers run amok? Double-jawed
carnivores? If only. No, we have to contend with sectarian
hatred, religiously motivated strife, world with end, amen.
That’s the power that religion-horror has over your basic
haunted-house (or spaceship) story.
Somewhere in Texas, an FBI agent in charge of the “God’s
Hands” murder cases gets an unexpected visit from a young
man who claims to know the identity of the murderer. When
calm, collected Fenton Meiks (McConaughey) walks into
Agent Doyle’s (Boothe) office, the FBI man is at first
inclined to regard him as yet another of the attention-seeking
wackos who turn up in every investigation. Soon though, Fenton’s
knowledge of particulars that haven’t been released to the
press persuades Doyle to listen, and listen carefully.
The movie flashes back as Fenton tells a horrifying tale
of family life gone crazily, surreally bad. In 1979, Fenton
was about 11 or 12, living with his younger brother, Adam
(Sumpter), and his affable father (Paxton),
a hardworking mechanic and widower. Their life was a pleasant
routine of school and work and meals in the little frame house
behind the city Rose Garden. One night it all falls away,
when Dad wakes the boys to tell them that he has received
a vision from an angel of the Lord. He is to be an instrument
of God, a demonslayer. Soon the angel will bring him a list
of the names of demons he must find and destroy. The angel
has told him that his boys are to be demonslayers too. Adam,
eager to please his dad, gets with the program right away;
but Fenton, who isn’t exactly a child any more, can only conclude
that his dad is either insane or playing a joke of questionable
taste.
The next day Dad hustles the boys through the morning routine
so prosaically that Fenton is convinced he must have dreamed
it all—until Dad reminds them not to discuss their family’s
new mission with anyone at school. Horror #1: What happens
when your sole adult relative, your reliable Dad, is clearly
losing his fucking mind? Having a parent not be himself or
herself any more is about the most destabilizing thing that
can happen to a kid. I mean, if this can happen, does gravity
still work? Are we all about to be flung off the spinning
earth, into space? You can see these questions march across
the face of Matt O’Leary, whose performance as Young
Fenton is nothing short of award-worthy. Doyle listens, astonished,
as Fenton relates his futile resistance to and unwilling participation
in the family’s abductions and murders, and offers to prove
the truth of his tale.
There’s so much right with Frailty that can’t be told
without spoiling the unfolding story. Paxton is wonderful
as Dad (who, like The Continental Op, never has a name). He
could’ve gone real wrong by playing Dad as a raving zealot
or as a dotty sort of Renfield. Instead he took the measured,
intelligent way, yielding an iconic Dad who’s so commonplace
in his concerns with who’s brushed their teeth and done their
homework, that it’s all the creepier when he wields that axe.
McConaughey and Boothe are both rock steady
in their roles, and what a relief it was, by the way, not
to have to listen to dreadful, Urban Cowboy “movie-Texan”
accents.
First-time screenwriter Brent Hanley, also a Texan,
has turned out a nice, disturbing little tale here, nice enough
that we should look forward to his next work. Yet I have to
wonder if the original story on the page made it to the screen
intact. I mention this because Frailty is also a very
nice-looking film, at one point to the detriment of the plot’s
logic. Yes, this is a visual medium, but its stories need
to hang together and not offer up howlers that strain our
credulity. Paxton-the-director shows a fine hand with his
actors, but could stand to toughen up and be ruthless about
abandoning lovely but unserviceable visuals. But let’s not
cavil. Frailty is worth seeing twice.
—Roxanne Bogucka
Click Here to read
Roxanne's interview with director Bill Paxton
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out
of 5
While we would never encourage anyone to destroy a video... 
