‘Dead Man’s Wire’ review: A 1970s Bill Skarsgård is mad as hell

Between gun-wielding anti-heroes like Bonnie Parker and Luigi MangioneFinancially strapped Americans were rooting for Tony Kiritsis, the working-class guy who took his Indianapolis mortgage lender hostage in 1977, claiming that the lending company had cheated him out of his land. “Wiring a Dead Man” title Gus Van Sant a shaky true crime stunt emanating from Kiritsis' weapon: a shotgun strapped to a noose around the neck of his captive Richard Hall. His homemade trigger invention forced all three major television networks to give Kiritsis airtime so he could explain his grievances to the public. Pressing the sawed-off shotgun to Hall's head, the hot-tempered loudmouth told cameras: “I'm sorry I humiliated this man in this way when he must have meant it.”

To the dismay of the establishment, many viewers sided with Kiritsis. “How about Tony Kiritsis T-shirts, Tony Kiritsis pins and a Tony Kiritsis fan club?” one supporter wrote to the local Indianapolis News.

How about a biopic that shoots blanks?

Van Sant has long been committed to the intersection of violence and media culture. Over the course of his career, he attacked it from various angles, including fame-seeking satire. “To Die For” his elegy to a public politician “Milk” and clinical boredom “Elephant”, his look at the Columbine massacre, in which a pair of his teenage killers dazzle themselves with grisly entertainment. Kiritsis's story is that of an irresistible target: an ignored man, thrilled to have attracted the attention of the new Action News squads, who rush onto the scene, unprepared for the risk that they might broadcast the murder live.

But this time around, Van Sant seems more interested in the period decor and aesthetics of early stock footage (cinematographer Arnaud Pothier) than in the dark humor of Kiritsis' TV tirade segueing into a hamburger commercial. The result is a slightly comical curiosity that zips by without much effect.

Accidents start when Kiritsis (Bill Skarsgard) storms the Meridian Mortgage office only to discover his intended captive, the ruthless ML Hall (Al Pacino), went on vacation to Florida. Hall's bullied and pampered son Richard (Dacre Montgomery) will have to be done, even though the heir to the property is so passive that he barely bothers to fight for his life. If you saw original footage weird press conference in which Hall, shaking with murder, stares blankly through flashbulbs, then you know Van Sant and Montgomery ( “Stranger Things” a bully opposed to a type) will definitely catch their victim, depriving Kiritsis and the audience of a worthy opponent. In one cold but weightless moment, the boy-man realizes that his father may not care if he survives.

At least the younger Hall's dull demeanor—then coded as dignity, now coded as callousness—makes Kiritsis seem more alive. The real Kiritsis was short, with sideburns like a car salesman; he had the kind of face that can only be seen on screen during bowling competitions. Lanky, hunched and frail, Skarsgård's version isn't all that salty, although he does capture his quick patter and the burning menace in his eyes. He plays a role somewhere between a soapbox preacher and “Scooby-Doo episode where Shaggy exposes the money-hungry bad guy and threatens to beat him to death.

Kiritsis is so convinced that he is right that he truly believes the mortgage company's manipulations rather than his own murder threat. When Hall proves too mute to argue, Kiritsis turns to a radio disc jockey named Fred (Colman Domingo), although Fred is more interested in pleasant melodies than serious news. (Springboard from this and his hilarious role as a TV presenter in “Running Man”, Domingo needs to star in his own comedy story.) Does anyone, even the insignificant young reporter he plays Mikha'lapoint out the alleged scam?

Yet despite how often in Austin Kolodny's script Kyritsis says he just wants to be heard, the mortgage deal gone wrong is so impossible to follow that even the film itself finds it unnecessary. Our attention shifts to the futility of this self-proclaimed “little guy” trying to get anyone with influence to take him seriously. During this period, criminal psychology was just beginning to become mainstream. An FBI agent (Neil Muhlach) instructs the Indianapolis cops to look deeper into Kiritsis' motives, showing with chalk how anger is rooted in humiliation and disrespect. Kiritsis is angry, and the yawns of the police do not help.

Kiritsis will have a podcast today. But oddballs like him seem especially at home in the 1970s—a damn crazy decade—when their polyester buttons make them look especially itchy around the collar. It's easy to imagine Kiritsis emerging from the dual role. “Net” And “Dog Afternoon” and swore that he wasn't going to take it anymore either.

Van Sant sees parallels between Kiritsis and populist bank robber Sonny Wortzik in Dog Day Afternoon—hell, he even cast Pacino as a fat financier—but the film doesn't seem to have the budget to explore how Kiritsis' anger inflames the cash-strapped masses. He certainly can't afford to include the actual scene at the Indianapolis Pacers game where basketball fans cheered his acquittal, although I'd take even a small player to help us understand why a jury of his peers let him off the hook.

Instead, the film inexplicably wastes its energy on drops of needles that work against the mood: Donna Summer's watery irony. “Love to love you baby” coos over an image of Hall in a bathtub, handcuffed. Better Danny Elfman the music is spartan and intense, especially the dyspeptic drums.

Was Kiritsis a narcissistic lunatic or a moron who put too much faith in the American ideals of hard work and fair treatment? Van Sant hints at the latter as the TVs continue to show John Wayne on other channels, the gunslinging Duke turns things around in a classic Western or wins the 1977 People's Choice award for best actor.

It's no surprise that Kyritsis decided he would be the hero too – and in real life, many of those watching the series at home agreed – although as obvious as this point is, it would have been nice to see Van Sant explore it. At least we get a sappy, expletive-laden version of Kiritsis's awards ceremony speech, which amounts to him thanking his family, Hall's family, and even the police academy before being escorted off stage. Kiritsis is confident that he has accomplished something great. We are saddened to realize how many others are waiting their turn.