Sure Fire (1990)

After watching this, I can safely say I sure am glad Tom Blair is not my dad. Sure Fire is true independent filmmaking at its finest, from an age before "indie" became another buzzword to sell blockbusters; shot in 16mm on about as low a budget as one can get, the film explores the denizens of a small town in rural Utah over the course of a few days. At the center is a real estate agent Wes, played by Tom Blair, who is always looking for a new angle to strike it rich. But Wes is more than just a smooth talker; underneath it there are real sociopathic inclinations just waiting to erupt. There is a moment after he delivers a long monologue to his wife, and she is clearly ignoring him, that he asks her if she is feeling alright, but his delivery is chilling, yet magnetic. And then there are the endless sequences of roads and trees swaying in the night accompanied by haunting music, and Biblical quotations. Towards the end there is a surreal extended sequence where the two main characters are superimposed over such a scene, drained of color, their thoughts and fears and machinations laid bare. Sure Fire is a bona fide masterpiece that reaches deep into the heart of not just the American, but the human soul, and shows us unflinchingly just what can be found there. As a cinephile, and just a viewer in general, this one awoke deep-seated emotions from within me. By no means is my native Pelham rural in any way, but the setting, and sense of place evoked something very familiar. These domestic spaces, the people, especially Wes, who reminded me of a friend of my father's who just got out of a five year stint in federal prison for smooth talking, it is all very, eerily familiar. We have all been here.