drunk in its sober and dry mannerism..
Roach’s biographical drama is drunk in its sober and dry mannerism that never appreciates its own mythology. The set of characters that the plot and concept fiddles with, is immensely electrifying especially in its latter stages but Roach seems distracted in here and his eye is on a blurred out vision of accuracy. And this is what’s disappointing since the accuracy isn’t cinematic or glorifying enough to chisel out the final anticipated product. The narration is undoubtedly gripping and adaptive but it isn’t as layered as they might think. But all these issues are piled upon the sensational performance that Cranston oozes in each frame. His raging, complex and logical expressive nature might be subtle on Layman’s terms but is actually a melody to encounter it.
The major issue holding it back, would be the continuity. Each event or episode may or may not attain its closure in its allotted span, but it surely changes up the tone that makes it shatter into bits and pieces where the responsible person is the director in charge who fails to blend the entire tale into one big act. The supporting characters are well crafted in here i.e. from Lane to Fanning or Louis C.K. to Mirren, each of them gets their stand alone moments with three dimensional perspective and aptly cooked vision for them.
The dialogues are layered and the conversations are pragmatic that can stay with you for a longer time and with a delivery like Cranston’s it definitely elevates the momentum. And it’s every man for himself at the end, that drags this somewhat sloppy script to as his character does to the script, “make it better”. Trumbo is a triumph on terms of performance but Cranston was not the only one that was on the stand, the rest of the work might be contempt for being guilty.