Has commercial fishing changed in the past century? I’m sure technology has streamlined the process somewhat, but I can’t help feeling that the process still involves wearing a ridiculous waterproof outfit, setting off at hours unknown to most clocks, braving, toiling, lugging, slicing, gutting, and poking sharp hooks through eye sockets because –apparently- coal mining isn’t a thing in Maine. Far as I could tell, this tale of women stuck in a crappy New England fishing town could have taken place in 1920, 1960, or 2060. The only way to truly nail down the time period is that one of the characters mentions how Tom Brady is playing for the Pats. I think that puts the movie between the years 1975 and 2020; pretty sure Tom has been playing for New England that long, right? No? Well it sure f***ing seems like it.
But this isn’t about football…or fishing, really. The fictional harbor town of Easter Cove, Maine is the setting for murder. Oh, sorry, that also is incorrect. This was more manslaughter or murder 2 at best. How do you have a Maine story with death but not murder? It’s clear Stephen King didn’t write this. The characters would probably have been a little better, too.
The Connolly sisters just lost their mom. Priscilla (Sophie Lowe) is the responsible one while Mary Beth (Morgan Saylor – great name for a fishing town) is the one with a future. The first part of this film is all about establishing the scene: winter in a cold fishing town, a funeral, a reception, and a “What are we gonna do now?” The two adult sisters inherited mom’s house, business, and debt –which unfortunately overshadows the other two. Oh, and Mary Beth didn’t know about the debt and now she’s pissed off. I would be, too, if I had pulled a George Bailey only to have nothing remaining when my parents died. Add to that a nothing town and a nothing future and Mary Beth is wicked outty.
At a bar on the way elsewhere, Mary attaches her hopes for the evening to alcohol and a stranger’s cigarette, but on the way back to his place, she decides it’s not worth it. The sailor in question probably sees action about as often as lobstahs sing karaoke, so he’s understandably reluctant to call the evening off so early. And then he goes too far. And then she runs away. And then he pursues. And then she locates a harpoon. Well, next thing you know, Priscilla and Mary Beth have bigger issues than money.
Blow the Man Down was quite good at finding the mood of a New England winter: somber, bleak, depressing. I was cold just watching the film. I kinda felt for Mary Beth and her plight. And I even bought into Enid (Margo Martindale) as the town’s dragon lady – although in reality, she would have needed some lackey muscle to pull it off. Once Popeye discovers the Best Little Whorehouse in Maine is policed solely by the queen of the Bingo parlor, I really don’t see the business going so well, y’know? But I digress. The problem with this movie is it remains about three significant plot points and a dramatic murder away from being a great film. The sisters sell their plight well enough, but not how we should feel about them. When they start making choices that reasonable people don’t make, it’s much harder to sympathize with the sitch. I wasn’t drawn to the cold, the leads, or the plot, any one of which might have saved the film. That ain’t happening today, chief.
The accents are thick on this lady
Who gets caught up in a Maine so shady
You can show me the shore,
A lobster, a whore
But it ain’t New England ‘til you mention “Tom Brady”
Rated R, 91 Minutes
Director: Bridget Savage Cole, Danielle Krudy
Writer: Bridget Savage Cole, Danielle Krudy
Genre: New England sucks
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: Dunno. Maine seafarers, maybe?
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: People who cannot stand small-town dynamics
