Men will literally become fixated on car accidents that keep happening on a dangerous road near their new house instead of going to therapy. At least, that's the case for Ben Foster's Josh in "Sharp Corner," an often remarkably well-acted psychological thriller about a pitiful man who can't stop looking out from his home in the hopes passing cars will crash. It's a work that serves as yet another strong showcase for Foster, who has been great in standout leading roles in "Leave No Trace" and "Hell or High Water."
Now this new film from writer-director Jason Buxton ("Blackbird") gets to where it needs to in one piece (even as its many motor vehicles do not), further proving to be another sturdy character study that is made into something greater by a fantastic Foster.
"Sharp Corner," which premiered Friday at the Toronto International Film Festival, is based on the disquieting short story of the same name by Russell Wangersky, and soon speeds off in plenty of its own directions. Namely, where the story was sparse and more thoughtfully restrained, the film goes for more in terms of scope -- but it comes out slightly shallower. It's an adaptation that proves less can often be more, with the best scenes coming when we're just alone with Foster.
His character, a family man who doesn't seem to care much for being one, is practically receding into himself when we first meet him. He is moving with his wife, Cobie Smulders' underwritten Rachel, out of the city into the suburbs so they can raise their young son (a creation of the film notably not in the short story) away from the hustle and bustle of the city. They get a good deal on the house and soon discover why: cars keep crashing right out front. The street takes a sudden turn and, especially late at night, people don't slow down nearly fast enough, resulting in an accident on their first night that rattles Rachel while fascinating Josh.
The patriarch then begins fixating on the carnage right outside their window, regaling friends in an appropriately awkward early dinner party scene with the gory details, as if he's rehearsed it, and preparing for the next one where he can immediately leap into action in order to ... what? Save the drivers? That's the rationale he gives when questioned about his growing obsession, which involves the most tense CPR classes you'll ever see in cinema, but it all feels deeply tied to his painfully fragile ego. After all, wouldn't it be better to put up more warning signs or go to the city to try to get things fixed? No, there isn't any glory to be had in that and our brave boy Josh fancies himself a hero who nobody else seems to understand.
Soon enough, the small bursts of carnage (all captured with grim bluntness) he is anxiously waiting for over a timespan of months will threaten to consume the life he's built with a family he seems content to cast aside.
Though vastly different in demeanor, the way Foster plays Josh makes him feel almost the mirror of his character in "Hell or High Water." "Sharp Corner" is not as good as that, with the actor having to shoulder some more stiff dialogue and overstretched storytelling, though the performance he gives is another thing of beauty in how it brings the broken pieces of a man who is lost in the world together. Both characters have a wildness in their eyes, they just hide it (or don't) in different ways, ensuring the glimpses we get of it sneak up on you that much more.
Foster's piercing stare and the way he carries himself, both seeming meek just as he is menacing, make you feel like you're being stared through in a way that sets the skin crawling. Not only does it serve the character well as Josh grows detached from much of the world around him, namely his job and family, so he can pursue some odd masculine fantasy, but it's also a way of expressing the internal strife from the short story without him even saying a word.
This could easily be mistaken for his character being a passive void, especially in how he lets things start to fall apart around him before futilely trying to fix them. But the more petrifying truths we get from Foster's performance excavate how this man's emptiness is the point. We see all of Josh, his insecurities and fears, so clearly, that it's remarkable he's even holding together. For all the ways he looks through others, he's practically translucent, with the way the camera lingers on his long stares capturing this perfectly. The moments where he begrudgingly does actually go to a therapist, behaving with a combination of disinterest and even outright petulance, as his life and marriage start to fall apart, reveal how truly little he cares for any of it.
If there is a sliver of predictability to the way "Sharp Corner" continues to ratchet up the tension and develop the interpersonal conflicts from Josh's own self-destruction, it's all because we're so locked in as Foster's performance peels back the layers of an already shallow man until he's been completely laid bare before us. He's no Travis Bickle of "Taxi Driver" -- oh no, that would be too interesting and chaotic. He's a consistently bland, almost boring, insecure man that Foster makes into something disquieting because of how ordinary he is. His delusional search for a purpose through car crashes, caught in the confines of his already crumbling life, makes the resulting choices he carries out darkly inevitable.
When all of the cards get laid out on the table, "Sharp Corner" is not as confident as its central performer, especially as it stalls out a bit before the end. As we observe Josh sink into his lonely house and for the darkness to consume him one last time before he comes bursting free, you realize he's finally who he was always building himself up to be: a selfishly cruel man still desperately pretending he isn't. All it takes is a little turn.