Writer and director of Levity Ed Solomon isn't interested veering his piece down a route of generic expectation and crime infused frills. His film is about a former convict, whom has just served a long stretch in prison and is now out amidst society again, but is a film that isn't interested in placing him in amongst the world of crime again and instead is more preoccupied with bedding him down in a singular locale so he may attempt to find some sort of peace with himself because of his actions. Solomon illustrates the crux of the scenario by way of an interaction with another ex convict shortly after release as this man, of African American descent, asks our lead for his presence for a store robbery that might happen in a few days. The lead's turning this offer down is an interesting systematic rejection of both the job itself and, on a greater plain, the route the film might've veered down as an ex-convict searching for quick, easy work within the only field he seemingly could ever operate in. Where crime thrillers about criminals fresh out of prison but instantaneously leaping back onto the amoral bandwagon in a total disregarding of the rules aren't necessarily always terrible, Levity is more concerned with an oppositional approach to the premise and sees its lead seek forgiveness and personal solace. Like 1998 Irish film Night Train starring John Hurt, or films from recent years produced after Levity such as Adulthood or I've Loved You So Long, the film is more concerned with the confusion and interior pain of one's past that retains its presence than seeking new dangerous highs.
The lead is Billy Bob Thornton's Manuel Jordan; a man, incidentally, found guilty of perpetrating a store robbery many years ago and shooting dead a clerk in the process, all as a young man. His memories of that day are the only sequences or compositions of the entire film shot in a point of view perspective, enforcing immediacy and garnering all the necessary terror of placing the audience on the front line of such an event. When we begin with Jordan, he ventures against the grain in an underground subway tunnel as hordes of people flood the other way against the direction in which he walks, something Solomon revisits much later on when certain events have unfolded and, perhaps, feelings have been rectified. We get the feeling Jordan regrets what he did, and while there are barely any sequences of the guy in prison, having the newspaper clipping of the murder he committed staring him back in the face as a reminder of what he did, we feel, has certainly aided in changing him as a human being. Thornton does an admirable job in relaying these feelings, his character even informing us that redemption is not possible, suggesting a real sense of a persistently low moral.
Solomon's rejection of one particular route as stated in Jordan's turning away from a store robbery job is immediately placed in contrast with the other route it's possible for him to venture down, in that a seemingly random pay phone call from Morgan Freeman's preacher named Miles offers the alternate post-prison existence. Here, Jordan finds work at a local community centre as its car park vendor and occupies the small basement room for living; opting for a route that is apparently more open to spirituality, religion and holiness. Miles occupies a room on the first floor of this centre, a physical space that sees him quite literally on high above every one else, as this heavenly; God-like; Christian presence whose space nobody ever sees or enters. The centre is situated across the street from a night club which persistently hosts raves, the physical setting of either spaces across a street from one another complete with divide down the middle in the form of a road; a place which entertains youngsters apparently on a similarly unforgiving track to that of Jordan, a fast-talking and somewhat obnoxious young girl that mingles with this crowd named Sofia (Dunst) even comes to bond with Jordan.
Despite his earlier statement to do with never actually being able to find redemption nor indeed be redeemed, Jordan takes it upon himself to seek those related to the young man he shot; his clumsiness and buffoonery in trying to help the sister of said young boy (now in her middle age) instilling a sense of a harmlessness, almost childlike, persona about him. In milling around the community centre, the aforementioned youngsters Miles aids in attempting to steer down the correct path enter Jordan's life. Jordan is ridiculed when he attempts to speak to the kids, most of whom are rude; involved in criminal activity themselves and one of which is identified by his own mother as probably proud to have already been shot, stating that "it's like a game to him.....". Certain twists, turns and revelations in the film come to reveal that perhaps those initially seemingly ill suited to the role of mentor are, in fact, best suited and vice-versa for those apparently with the gift or role of saving. In a film in which nobody is quite as they seem and a real sense of respect for both the world and those that exist in within it lacking for those of a younger ilk, Jordan is our anchor; providing us with an effective character study around which people whom have not experience what he's gone through operate. According to the IMDb, Solomon's bizarre career has seemingly taken him from somewhat turgid writing credits for things like 1993's Super Mario Brothers and 2000's Charlie's Angels right the way through to getting a "thanks" on a wondrous little film from 2006 about a suicide bomber entitled Paradise Now. In Levity, he writes and directs astutely about a man regretting the past; with Levity, the author is astutely going about a similar phase of trying to make amends.
The lead is Billy Bob Thornton's Manuel Jordan; a man, incidentally, found guilty of perpetrating a store robbery many years ago and shooting dead a clerk in the process, all as a young man. His memories of that day are the only sequences or compositions of the entire film shot in a point of view perspective, enforcing immediacy and garnering all the necessary terror of placing the audience on the front line of such an event. When we begin with Jordan, he ventures against the grain in an underground subway tunnel as hordes of people flood the other way against the direction in which he walks, something Solomon revisits much later on when certain events have unfolded and, perhaps, feelings have been rectified. We get the feeling Jordan regrets what he did, and while there are barely any sequences of the guy in prison, having the newspaper clipping of the murder he committed staring him back in the face as a reminder of what he did, we feel, has certainly aided in changing him as a human being. Thornton does an admirable job in relaying these feelings, his character even informing us that redemption is not possible, suggesting a real sense of a persistently low moral.
Solomon's rejection of one particular route as stated in Jordan's turning away from a store robbery job is immediately placed in contrast with the other route it's possible for him to venture down, in that a seemingly random pay phone call from Morgan Freeman's preacher named Miles offers the alternate post-prison existence. Here, Jordan finds work at a local community centre as its car park vendor and occupies the small basement room for living; opting for a route that is apparently more open to spirituality, religion and holiness. Miles occupies a room on the first floor of this centre, a physical space that sees him quite literally on high above every one else, as this heavenly; God-like; Christian presence whose space nobody ever sees or enters. The centre is situated across the street from a night club which persistently hosts raves, the physical setting of either spaces across a street from one another complete with divide down the middle in the form of a road; a place which entertains youngsters apparently on a similarly unforgiving track to that of Jordan, a fast-talking and somewhat obnoxious young girl that mingles with this crowd named Sofia (Dunst) even comes to bond with Jordan.
Despite his earlier statement to do with never actually being able to find redemption nor indeed be redeemed, Jordan takes it upon himself to seek those related to the young man he shot; his clumsiness and buffoonery in trying to help the sister of said young boy (now in her middle age) instilling a sense of a harmlessness, almost childlike, persona about him. In milling around the community centre, the aforementioned youngsters Miles aids in attempting to steer down the correct path enter Jordan's life. Jordan is ridiculed when he attempts to speak to the kids, most of whom are rude; involved in criminal activity themselves and one of which is identified by his own mother as probably proud to have already been shot, stating that "it's like a game to him.....". Certain twists, turns and revelations in the film come to reveal that perhaps those initially seemingly ill suited to the role of mentor are, in fact, best suited and vice-versa for those apparently with the gift or role of saving. In a film in which nobody is quite as they seem and a real sense of respect for both the world and those that exist in within it lacking for those of a younger ilk, Jordan is our anchor; providing us with an effective character study around which people whom have not experience what he's gone through operate. According to the IMDb, Solomon's bizarre career has seemingly taken him from somewhat turgid writing credits for things like 1993's Super Mario Brothers and 2000's Charlie's Angels right the way through to getting a "thanks" on a wondrous little film from 2006 about a suicide bomber entitled Paradise Now. In Levity, he writes and directs astutely about a man regretting the past; with Levity, the author is astutely going about a similar phase of trying to make amends.