Review of American Heart

The always excellent Jeff Bridges gives one of his finest, most impressive and hard-edged performances to date as Jack Kelson, a scruffy, but basically decent ex-con who gets paroled and has trouble readjusting to civilian life. Jack gets a job washing windows, resides in a cheap crummy apartment, tries to save money so he can move to Alaska and start life afresh, and attempts to bond with his forlorn, disaffected teenage son Nick (beautifully played by Edward Furlong). Documentary filmmaker Martin Bell, working from an astute, no-nonsense script by Peter Silverman, directs his first fictional feature with a commendable blend of total assurance and steady compassion for the more downtrodden members of modern society. The strong, moving and absorbing story about redemption and urban blight thankfully eschews cloying sentiment and hokey mainstream Hollywood razzle-dazzle; in their place we instead have a rough and unsentimental tone that naturally draws poignancy from the characters and the dire situation they find themselves struggling to overcome. Bridges and Furlong are both outstanding in the leads; they receive fine support from Lucinda Jenney as Jack's sweet cabbie girlfriend Charlotte, Don Harvey as Jack's slimy old criminal partner Rainey, Tracey Kaprisky as sad teenage prostitute Molly, and Melvyn Hayward as Jack's stern, but fair parole officer Normandy. The cinematography by James R. Bagdonas nails the grimy despair of the grungy Seatle locations with exceptional vividness. James Newton Howard's spare, bluesy score and a tip-top soundtrack which includes several terrific songs by Tom Waits further add to the film's deeply affecting impact. The downbeat ending is absolutely heartbreaking. A total powerhouse.