Foxcatcher

Creepy. Creep-y. The filmmakers establish the creepy vibe in the first ten seconds of the movie and it never lets up. Channing Tatum embodies his desperate athlete with “Rocky Balboa” levels of pathos. You can sense the train wreck coming when he’s lured into the freaky world of the ultra-rich by the creepiest of rich creeps, John Du Pont, creepily portrayed by Steve Carrell. And the exposition of the theme begins in earnest. John Du Pont is one of those rich dudes who’s so rich that the rules don’t apply to him. He can revise history. He can call himself the coach of a team. “Don’t forget,” the film says. “Rich dudes can do whatever they want.” Money buys you power, even if you’re a creep.  And man, oh man, is he a creep. Unfortunately to the filmmakers, creepy also means slow. So there are times when you wish that this movie would quit it with the creepy mood and get to where the rubber meets the road. And it happens eventually, with adequately creepy results. But pacing is important. Foxcatcher understands its tone perfectly in the beginning, but squanders its good will earned in the set up by de-emphasizing the finale. Still, kudos go to all involved for sticking to their tone and their theme, even if they have to try our patients to do it.