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EDMOND Send This Review to a Friend
William H. Macy, an actor whose presence has become a guarantee of quality, gives an indelible performance that is one of his best, but in a film that, despite its matching quality, is emotionally difficult to take. The no-holds-barred screenplay was written by David Mamet based on a play of his, and director Stuart Gordon has kept the faith by presenting the story with unflinching candor.
Macy plays Edmond, who is tired of his role as an employee and also of his marriage that has come to bore him. An argument with his wife (Rebecca Pidgeon) triggers a mental explosion. He has had it with everything, walks out, and so begins the long night—a descent into a new hell that he is creating for himself.
Edmond’s bitterly racist attitude, complete with repeated use of the N word, and his general spewing of hatred, especially of the racist kind, can make one squirm with discomfort. One almost cannot bear to listen and subsequently to watch the bloody violence that unfolds. Edmond visits a Times Square peep show, and seems unbelievably naïve as he expects honesty in the seedy dealings, as he does from bar girls and pimps. Wherever he turns, the world is cheating him.
Macy hones in on the pent-up explosiveness with amazing acting prowess as he plunges further and further into the depths, wreaking havoc on others and as well as on himself.
Mamet’s writing is brutally tough. This is a superbly made film, but you have to have the stamina to experience it. A First Independent Pictures release.
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