Drenched in legacy and blue blood, John du Pont is the embodiment of capitalism as a sickness. Or that’s what director Bennett Miller wants us to believe. From one of the most established and ridiculously wealthy families in America , du Pont assembles the wrestling team Foxcatcher in order to win an Olympic gold medal. As with most things, it is slowly revealed that this intense desire to win is a chance for du Pont to prove himself to his disapproving mother. He enlists a lonely and undervalued Mark Schultz (Channing Tatum), who jumps at the chance to emerge from his brother’s, Dave Schultz (Mark Ruffalo), looming shadow. In a fantastic performance, Steve Carrell portrays the warped, feeble du Pont with such subtly of expression and mannerism it’s hard to tear your eyes away.
Truly a character study, all the leads give deep performances conveying meaning with every touch and slight change in facial expression. In fact, the best parts of the film are the intimate moments between Mark and Dave or Mark and du Pont. The film focuses on a kind of male affection that is rarely given such attention or importance. Miller handles the scenes in extreme close up, carefully expressing and then examining the lack of space in the two co-dependent relationships. The numerous close ups create an ominous strangling feeling as if a human spirit is being suffocated. This uncomfortable, squirming feeling lasts throughout the film, but peaks in scenes where du Pont tries, in vain, to earn the respect of his mother or his team. He gives speeches filled with awkward pauses and weird phrasing while Miller cuts to bewildered faces of the Foxcatcher team, looking about as rigid and distressed as the audience feels. At certain points, the film is very hard to watch. This quality only adds to the film as the deterioration of a man should be hard to watch. And for every scene an audience member groaned, gasped or looked away, there’s a friction, or a confrontation, between the perceived image of man and the image he sees of himself.
One important aspect is the heavily patriotic mise-en-scene, featuring a plethora of American flags, endless portraits of old white men, and the huge white house, which bares a (not surprisingly) striking resemblance to the actual White House. As the plot continues, the decor begins to feel like the dusty, decaying remains of a stagnant nation, clinging to the great ideals it once embodied, but now doesn’t even symbolize. The same could be said for du Pont, a symbol of the sickness of wealth and entitlement that has corrupted this country (i.e. Wall Street). The film burns with disturbing intensity, leaving expressions of open-mouthed horror on the faces of the audience. Although Miller might have done more cinematically, the superb acting holds up more than it’s share, creating a contemplative study of an man driven crazy by his own wealth and power. An interesting way to confront the growing political turmoil that is affecting America right now, right?
