MAGGIE MOORE(S) is a nifty neo-noir that deftly plumbs the seeping corruption underlying the dull quotidian of a small southwestern city, trading the usual stark contrast between light and shadow for an oppressive sort of omnipresent sunlight that shows everything but reveals nothing. Beginning with a murder in a seedy motel parking lot, it flashes back 10 days to why the eponymous, and unremarkable name of the victim, would strike the police officers on scene as weird. What follows is, of course, anything but straightforward as it ties together expired food, scare tactics gone awry, and the life-saving importance of taking charge of one’s life.
The police on the scene are Chief Jordan Sanders (Jon Hamm) and Deputy Reddy (Nick Mohammed), the former dealing with the death of his wife a year ago, both of them dealing with the latter’s unfortunately timed sense of humor. The tension that creates between the officers provides comic relief, as does the pervasive black humor as dry as the desert setting. It does nothing to mitigate the genuine tension of stone-cold killers, amoral procurers, and a corporate policy that gives no quarter. That last applies to Jay Moore (Micah Stock), owner of a sub franchise who has been sucked into major crime when he tries to increase his shop’s profits to please his wife, Maggie (Louisa Krause). Their monumental final argument is overheard by their neighbor, Rita Grace (Tina Fey), who has lost her friends in their divorce (they chose her ex). The fallout of those snippets of conversation provides key evidence for Jordan, though not necessarily the evidence involved in the murder, of which there will be, ahem, more.
The clever script is rife with misdirection. Be it from the characters and their increasingly desperate moves to avoid the consequences of their actions, or the deft work of screenwriter, Paul Bernbaum, who never tips his hand in a mystery populated by quirky characters that are solidly the product of small-town ennui and their own failings, large and small. Bernbaum has also crafted a fumbling ancillary romance that becomes a plot point of unexpected necessity between Jordan and Rita, beginning with too much pepper and hinging on a betrayal that is strictly in the eye of the beholder. As played by Hamm and Fey, it transcends mere quirkiness (she is too enthusiastic about pepper) as two people who are not quite ready to move on from their emotional trauma find themselves unable to deny their mutual attraction. Fey, in particular, knows how to deliver a wisecrack disparaging her character that is less a muted plea for an argument to convince her that she’s wrong than it is a friendly warning about getting involved with a chipper hot mess. It’s a subtle performance that, along with Hamm’s stalwart indecision about leaping into a relationship, grounds the film’s eccentricities.
Sharply directed without cheap tricks, MAGGIE MOORE(S) is a satisfying blend of comedy, mystery, and human tragedy. Justice is served, sort of. Danger threatens to explode at any moment. And solutions tied up with a shiny bow are exposed for the fairy tales they are.
Your Thoughts?