The Old Man and the Gun

The Last Ride of the Sundance Kid
or
"Brother, I'm Not Talkin' 'Bout Making a Living"

It's the smile you notice. Forrest Tucker (Robert Redford) walks into a bank and if there's no women behind the teller-stations, he'll ask to see the manager. Then, invited to the manager's office, he'll sit down, smile, and open his coat showing the manager that he has a gun, and (very reasonably) ask for an emergency withdrawal of some weight to keep him from using that seen gun in a way injurious to that manager. He never says that the gun is loaded—psychologically, that is irrelevant—it achieves its purpose without getting into details. And he never has to demonstrate. It rarely doesn't work, and he'll leave the banking institution several thousand dollars richer.

Detective John Hunt (Casey Affleck) interviews employees post-robbery and when he gets to motivation, he strives to keep incredulity out of his voice when he re-states what he's been told: "So, you did what you did because he said he had a gun..." "Yes. And also, he was sort of a gentleman."

Robert Redford doesn't direct The Old Man and the Gun, but he does some producing chores on it, and it is David Lowery (who worked with Redford on his miraculous un-tuned version of Disney's worst musical, Pete's Dragon) who is calling the shots, making a breezy film based on David Grann's* New Yorker article on Tucker**, who became known as "The Gentleman Bandit" cutting a swath through Southern banks in the 1980's. Tucker usually worked alone, and on tougher jobs that needed more co-ordination and a fast getaway, with two long-in-the-tooth associates Teddy (Danny Glover) and Waller (Tom Waits), who became known in law-enforcement circles as "The Over-the-Hill Gang."

When we first meet Tucker, he does a job ("Belmont Texas, July 26, 1991" we're told to give the film some authenticity by place/time-stamps as well as a first title that states "The story, also, is mostly true."***), a hearing aid in his ear (which is tuned to police frequencies), and as he makes his escape, he passes a motorist, Jewel (Sissy Spacek), who has broken down on the highway. He stops to help, and as, after police cruisers have raced by, he pulls his head out from under the hood. "Do you know anything about cars?" Jewel asks. "No," he replies. "Not really."

A tow truck is called, as he knows nothing about cars. They're a means to an end, just like lunch at a diner with Jewel while the police are running around outside, looking for this "gentleman bandit." She's trying to figure him out. He introduces himself as "Bob...Bob Kelly." "I like that truck of yours," she mentions. "Yeah," he says casually. "I stole it." But his eyes twinkle when he says it. "Hey, I'm just pullin' your leg." When he's a little vague about what he does, she presses, and he asks for her phone number. She writes it down and slides it across the table. He writes down what he does and slides it back. She looks at him in shock. "What's worse—if I'm lyin' or telling you the truth?" More talk, and he talks about his list of "things I want to do, but haven't done yet."

"Better hurry up," she smirks.

It's probably as good as time as any to talk about Robert Redford's face. There's no longer a hint of the smooth, angelic planes that made his initial days of acting so problematic—finding roles that would play against type than as "the nice boy"—that he finally roughed it up with various facial hair until folks could look past...his looks. His face, now, is a complicated map of wrinkles that crinkle with every expression, going beyond the weathered look he's had in the last couple decades and becoming more expressive and more open in conveying what his character is feeling. It's like Redford's movie-star mask has dropped. And we're starting to see him in his own skin. More on that at the end.

Hunt actually has contact with Tucker, when he's inside a bank that gets robbed by him right under the detective's nose. The bank goes into lock-down and all he can think of is his kids in the car, who are probably wondering that's going on with daddy in the bank; they'll be panicking when they see the police cars showing up. Try as he might, he can't convince the bank officials that he IS a police officer and he doesn't NEED to wait for the police to show up. Somewhere in there, he must be frustrated that he's less convincing to the bank officials than the robber.

Hunt had been frustrated with police work, maybe even quitting, but Tucker's spree energizes him (despite the ribbing his fellow officers give him for chasing a senior citizen bank robber). He WANTS to catch this guy, even goes on television saying that he WILL catch him—a broadcast that Tucker sees, and when the next job happens, the Gentleman Bandit leaves a present of a $100 bill saying "Detective John Hunt: Good Luck! 'The Over-the-Hill Gang'."

Oh. It's on.

Meanwhile, Jewel and "Bob" start seeing more of each other. She invites him out to her farm, introduces him to her horses, tells him she's keeping the place, despite her kid's protestations that she should get herself a condo with little up-keep. "Now's the time to be a little selfish." "Bob" likes the idea of her keeping the place, being independent, but he's not smiling when he looks out at the place. At a mall, they look at a bracelet Jewel likes, and Bob grabs her by the arm and they walk out without paying for it. He's all smiles. She looks at him...and stops in her tracks. She turns to go back to the store, and he, sheepishly, follows her.."sorry, we totally forgot..he's paying for it."

The FBI steps in when the Gang pull a job across state lines, leaving Hunt to merely look on in frustration, while somebody else handles the leads. Then, he gets a letter: a young woman named Dorothy (Elizabeth Moss) writes him a letter, saying that the robber, from his description and from stories her mother told her about her absent father makes her suspect that the two might be one and the same. Her father's name: Forrest Tucker. Background work on Tucker shows a lifelong criminal history, with a penchant for escaping whatever prison thought might hold him. A chance encounter between the two men in the bathroom of the local diner just confirms what Hunt has begun to suspect—and the two men now know each other—by sight.

"Lookin' sharp makes you look like you know what you're doin'
...even if you don't."

Lowery's direction is low-key and efficient, less concerned for the striking image (as he has in the past), but keeping an eye for the magic that his cast can deliver at the drop of a smile, and the energy transference between a scene between an old pro like Redford and a "bury-it-deep" performer like Affleck manages to bring out sparks in both actors. Working with Redford seems to invigorate Affleck with just that much more wattage, as Spacek does the same for Redford. The story lends itself to making one wonder what makes a character like Tucker tick, and the answer lies in the very longevity that belies a high-risk occupation. This is some of Redford's more subtle work in his career and it's helped by the etching carved into his face that allows the slightest of smiles shine through with satisfaction. It is a melancholy acknowledgment of damage along the way, which might be apparent to those around Tucker, but he wouldn't be aware at all.

One can't help but smile, albeit sadly, in return.

If this is Redford's last film performance (I'm highly skeptical of that), it's a great one to go out on.

* Grann also wrote the book The Lost City of Z.

** January 23, 2003, if you're checking or looking for it at the old magazine store.

*** One should remember that Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid started with the title "Most of what follows is true." The "also" of The Old Man and the Gun hearkens back to it. The film is a sly little tribute to Redford in places; at one point there's a clip of the young Redford from The Chase (1966), and there's a sweet little nod to The Sting, that I won't spoil by pointing it out.