When Robert Redford first announced that The Old Man and the Gun was going to be the last film he was going to be acting in, it became a film that shot to the top of my must-see list.  Since that announcement he’s backed off on his comment, but if this were his last film, this would be one heck of a way to close out an amazing career. What writer and director David Lowery has delivered here is sort of a love letter to all of Redford’s greatest hits, and by the time the credits end, well, you simply know you’ve watched something special.  It’s a film from another era, when special FX didn’t come out of a camera, and cinema just was different.  Most of all this film reminded me why Redford will always remain a cinematic icon, but what was missing here is the void Paul Newman left behind.  This would have been a perfect film for them to both be in and ride off into the sunset together, and it’s a reminder of how many greats we have lost and those other greats who may not have passed, but it seems Hollywood just doesn’t seem to have a place for anymore.

The film is mostly a true story based on the criminal Forrest Tucker (Redford), who has spent his life in and out of prison. He’s been incarcerated 18 times, and each of those times he’s managed to find a way to escape.  The film isn’t about his entire life, but instead about when his criminal life may be coming to an end.  When he meets Jewel (Sissy Spacek), he’s actually on the run after a bank heist, and he pulls over on the highway to help her when he sees her car is broken down.  Of course, it seems this is just a tactic to throw the cops off his tail, but the more he talks with Jewel, you can’t be sure if that twinkle in his eye is part of the con, or if he is sweet on the woman.

"I always knew he'd come back. In this town, Michael Myers is a myth. He's the Boogeyman. A ghost story to scare kids. But this Boogeyman is real. An evil like his never stops, it just grows older. Darker. More determined. Forty years ago, he came to my home to kill. He killed my friends, and now he's back to finish what he started, with me. The one person who's ready to stop him."

I was 17 years old when John Carpenter released The Shape, aka Michael Myers, on the world in 1978. It was a milestone film. Of course we didn't know we were watching something that would become so culturally huge. We were the target audience. Teens who were looking for some extra thrill in our films. These so-called slasher films became great escapes of fantasy to bring a date along. For a late-teen, there's no better way to spend an evening with a date than a film that might have her jump right into your lap. Great times. But the reason Halloween stands out from the crowded genre is because John Carpenter knew something about anticipation. He knew how to build towards a scare. And he understood how to use music, shadow, and pacing to truly immerse his audience into a film. I didn't watch Halloween in 1978. I experienced Halloween in 1978.

I was quite reluctant to attend the screening for The Oath. My reluctance wasn't based on my willingness to see the film. People like us will go to any kind of a movie. I love films. My issue was the impression I received from the trailer. The film appears to be ripped from today's political climate and quite possibly to be a close parody of the actual present political situation. No matter on what side of that issue I might personally happen to fall, we here at Upcomingdiscs try our best to keep our politics out of our work. It's not fair to fellow writers for them to be brushed with any other writer's ideals, and it's simply unnecessary to create a hostile environment here for any of our readers or staff. So I approached the screening with the caveat that I might not actually review the film. When the studio agreed to those terms, I set out to experience The Oath. I'll give you a little "inside baseball" into the movie review business. When a critic is invited to a press screening of a film, there is a bit of a contract strongly implied in that invitation. Attendance is an agreement to write and publish a review of the film that is reported back to the studio. No studio has ever even commented on the review's content. Rest assured we are completely free to write whatever we want with the exception of revealing important spoiler information and agreeing to a specific embargo date (as sometimes we see a film weeks before they street). So that freedom to decide not to review was an important and rather unusual agreement to have, because I was not sure I was going to be willing to follow through. Fortunately, the trailer is a bit revealing, and The Oath isn't a one-sided spoof at all. It can easily be enjoyed no matter what your individual politics happen to be.

This film certainly touches on the political divide; however, it quite smartly removes itself a full step away from the current participants or personalities. The story pretty much focuses on one family that has gathered together for a holiday meal. Like most families, there are the usual tensions, and that includes differing ideas about the political situation. That landscape was impossible for them to avoid, because the President of the United States had just announced that he was issuing a "voluntary" Loyalty Oath, and the deadline for people to sign was fast approaching. And so our family naturally begins to discuss what they plan to do about it. Writer and director Ike Barinholtz stars as Chris. He has refused to sign the oath of loyalty to the President and has a pretty hostile opinion of anyone who has signed or is planning to sign it. Unfortunately for Chris, his parents and siblings who have all gathered at his home for the Thanksgiving dinner are more inclined to sign the oath, and some family members already have. The promise is that the oath is completely on a volunteer basis, but we soon learns what happens when you don't sign and someone rats you out.