The Guilty

 3/4

Starring: Jake Gyllenhaal, and the voices of Riley Keough, Peter Sarsgaard, Eli Goree, Da'Vine Joy Randolph, Ethan Hawke

Rated R for Language Throughout

One might be forgiven if they confused "The Guilty" with "The Call" from a few years ago.  After all, they share the same basic premise of a 911 operator trying to save someone's life.  But whereas the Halle Berry flick threw plausibility and common sense out the window in favor of action and adrenaline, "The Guilty" remains grounded without a significant drop-off in tension.  Actually, a better point of comparison would be "Locke," the dramatic thriller with Tom Hardy trapped in a car for 90 minutes.

911 dispatcher Joe Baylor (Gyllenhaal) is having a rough day.  A wildfire is on the outskirts of Los Angeles.  His court date is tomorrow.  His ex won't speak to him.  No wonder he's in a bad mood.  And just when things couldn't get any more intense, he gets a call out of his worst nightmares.  A woman named Emily Lighton (Keough) has just been kidnapped by her husband (Sarsgaard).  He does the right thing and alerts Highway Patrol, but trying to find Emily is like trying to find a needle in a haystack.  And they're too busy dealing with the fire to do what needs to be done.  He's on his own.

Jake Gyllenhaal has always been a good actor (even in crap like "Demolition" or "Southpaw," also directed by Antoine Fuqua), but he really outdoes himself here.  He manages to do two things: get the audience to identify with a character who is not likable, and make oldest cliche in the book seem fresh again.  The "tough guy in need of redemption" is as old as the hills, but because Gyllenhaal buries himself so deeply in his character's skin, it gains new life.  He even maintains our interest even when the film's credibility meter approaches breaking point (something that happens more than once).

Director Antoine Fuqua made the brilliant decision to keep the film inside the 911 Dispatch.  Save for a few key establishing shots, we are as trapped inside as Joe is.  This claustrophobia makes it easier to identify with Joe, and understand that the only tool he has is his voice.  Other than that, he is completely unable to help Emily.  Likewise, the camera never leaves Joe.  It follows him everywhere, and Fuqua keeps it close, further increasing the intimacy.  Gyllenhaal is present in every scene, and while there are a few humans he interacts with, they're bit players.  His more famous co-stars, real life brother-in-law Peter Sarsgaard, up and coming star Riley Keough, an unrecognizable Ethan Hawke, and a very funny cameo by Paul Dano, are all on the phone.

Unfortunately, the film's successes don't translate to the story.  The narrative feels more formula than it actually is.  And not just because it's a remake of a Danish film.  Maybe it's because in Fuqua's quest to keep the film realistic, he lost the showmanship needed for a narrative like this to work ("Locke" got away with this because the stakes were lower).  It certainly doesn't help that the subplot about Joe's impending court case is waste of time.  It's not necessary and dilutes the film's focus.  And considering the times we live in, it's a little insensitive and rings all the more false.  I'm not saying that Joe shouldn't have had a skeleton in his closet (although, since this character trait is so overused, his lacking one might have seemed more fresh), but did it have to be such a cliche?

Still, in its own way the film works.  It's tense and doesn't overstay its welcome.  Not a bad way to spend 90 minutes.