Blow The Man Down Review

 (A version of this article originally appeared on kernelnow.com / mynewslike.com)

As the world remains on epidemic-enforced lockdown, movie fans are looking to a variety of platforms to find their filmic fix (hopefully acquiring a newfound appreciation for those that create along the way). For most, that involves streaming; perhaps to discover and re-watch old favorites, or perhaps to keep up with brand new content. Services such as Netflix and Amazon Prime are proving ripe with these fresh titles – fresh titles like Blow the Man Down.

Following a successful run in last year’s film festival circuit, the film – set in the fictional town of Easter Cove, Maine – sees the Connolly sisters Priscilla (Sophie Lowe) and Mary Beth (Morgan Saylor) finding themselves in a new world where they must now run their family’s fishmongers without their recently deceased mother Mary Margaret.

Oh, and there’s the small matter of the man that Mary Beth murders, probably in self-defense, on the night of the funeral.

In too deep: Life gets real quick for Mary Beth (Saylor)
(source: Amazon Studios)

It’s an off-kilter story set in a small-town world, with ordinary folk caught up in a world of real crime and consequences – unsurprisingly, there have been many comparisons to the Coen Brothers’ Fargo. There’s also a touch of Noah Hawley’s television show of the same name, and it wouldn’t be a terrible stretch to imagine this film as the latest story in that ever-growing anthology universe. There’s also a hint of Wes Anderson’s visual style in the film’s hyper-real domestic settings, and surely the stark, eccentric dialogue style of Yorgos Lanthimos (The Lobster, The Favourite) proved some inspiration. But writer-directors Bridget Savage Cole and Danielle Krudy haven’t merely created a female-led homage – this world, this town, is fully and exclusively realized.

Of course, the sisterhood at the center is crucial. It’s rare to see a criminal twosome operate so equally, especially outside of a classic “on-the-run” pair like Thelma and Louise or Bonnie and Clyde. The two stand as classic quarreling siblings at the start of the film, with Priscilla tied to a sense of duty to her home and her sister desperate to escape to a big city college dream. However, that just sets up their undying bond as sisters, loyal almost to a fault but also an inseparable twosome. As their lives are turned upside down twice in a matter of days, they form a unit from the moment they navigate the funniest scene with an ice box since the summer of 2014. Yes, it’s true that neither Lowe nor Saylor particularly stand out in their micro-ensemble, but that’s purely because each young woman is crucial to keeping the other aground in both narrative and performance.

Doin’ it for themselves: Mary Beth (Saylor) and Priscila (Lowe) have a lot to answer for
(source: Amazon Studios)

There’s also the superb realization of the town’s supporting cast. As Officer Justin Brennan, Will Brittain shares a direct lineage with Frances McDormand and Colin Hanks as a supremely just officer of the law, refusing to turn the other cheek even when it might ruin a “good guy” or exonerate a “dirtbag”. He’s the only competent male in a town influenced by a cloaked matriarchy which offers the film’s only recognizable faces: June Squibb stands as the head of a matronly group who seek to maintain a moral balance in their town, in opposition to their former accomplice – the manipulative brothel-keeper, Enid Devlin.

Played by a sinister Margo Martindale (and surely cast by a fan of her wickedly self-aware turn in Bojack Horseman), Enid is much more publicly assured of her influence than Squibb and her companions – and notably better at insidious plotting. It’s through “Ms. Devlin” and her house that we enter the true underbelly of Easter Cove, one that the Connolly sisters have unwittingly stumbled upon and which makes their concerns seem insignificant. Despite this, neither storyline is sacrificed for the other – a testament to the narrative skills of Savage Cole and Krudy that it’s just as necessary to invest in the sisters’ wellbeing as it is the overarching power struggle.

Cane, and very able: Enid (Margo Martindale) enforces a relentless rule
(source: Amazon Studios)

Of course, indie fare isn’t mainstream for a reason, and in a setting like online streaming where it’s much easier to “walk out” of a screening, the film’s eccentricities may work against it. Its title comes from a sea shanty heard not just in its soundtrack, but through a fisherman’s chorus who occasionally appear on-screen, singing directly to the viewer in an experience that can prove jarring.  These haunting voices lend a misty, spiritual feel to proceedings, suggesting that the Connollys and their township are living through one of these ancient rimes. This theme of the “stuff of legend” courses through the film’s last five minutes, which give a whole new meaning to the term “murder mystery”; it’s an ending that harbors no ambition to tie every loose end, but instead questions where power – and guilt – now lies in this town’s transformed reality.

Blow the Man Down may exist in one of cinema’s sparsest moments, but that does not mean that it should be watched out of desperation alone. The genre of crime has always existed in something of a cluttered state, and this seafront chronicle stands as a unique feature among them. Come for the raw talent of the directors and leads if nothing else; but stay a while in Easter Cove, and perhaps you’ll find yourself enjoying this crisp and briny ride.