Sleepers is a 1996 crime thriller about a prank that goes disastrously wrong, sending a group of boys to a detention center where they are brutalized, having them seek revenge ten years later.
Sleepers is a harrowing story, true or not. There remains convincing evidence that writer Lorenzo Carcaterra lied in stating that his book is based on actual events, but this is really not important. Any film should be viewed as a work of fiction to some degree, and we should explore the work, not what it is based on. The movie centers on four young boys who make a terrible mistake while running a prank and end up paying for their trouble in truly disturbing ways. Incarcerated in a boys reformatory, they are repeatedly molested by guards. Many years later, two of the boys, now gangsters themselves, encounter the lecherous guard’s ringleader and thinking the man is deserving, murder him. Conveniently, the other two boys have traveled better paths. One is a journalist and the other an assistant D.A. To save their old friends, they devise a plan that involves a mentor from their past, Father Bobby (Robert de Niro), to give them an alibi.
While there is some solid acting in director Barry Levinson‘s film, and the story itself is traumatic and engaging, there is a kind of distance to the film that doesn’t quite work. The boys are guilty, and the morality of revenge as reason doesn’t hold up under even the slightest scrutiny. Naturally, we feel pity for the boys as youngsters, but feel empty with the eventual outcome. Either way, despite its flaws, there is a moment in this film that is one of the best in the decade, cementing the legacy of the actor who pulls it off.
That Moment In Sleepers
Scene Setup: Shakes (Jason Patric), visiting the home of Father Bobby, asks him to lie on the stand, and to do so, tells him about the true horrors the he and the boys faced in the reform school under the watch of the guards.
Why it Matters: Robert De Niro. There is very little movement in the scene, all about the dynamic between Shakes and Father Bobby. It doesn’t even matter what Shakes is saying – in fact his own voice nearly goes mute as music swells and the narration takes over. Even the camera pulls out of the room as if repelled by the horror. Then it settles on Father Bobby as he listens and then holds for a long, painful minute. Almost imperceptibly, his eyes shifting from the unseen Shakes to our own. The effect is devastating.
More: There are several stand out moments in this film, and many of the actors give affecting performances, though Brad Pitt, as fine an actor as he is, is miscast. He is hardly convincing as a lawyer and his trademark nonchalance is just off-putting. In rewatching the film, I was taken with how well portrayed the menace and malice of the guard, played by of Kevin Bacon, and his transformation into the empty, Hollow Man (see what I did there?) years later. Patric, playing Shakes, is also very effective, especially in this moment. He holds his own opposite De Niro and there is a fractured quality in his efforts to ask a Father to lie in defense of the savages brought upon himself and his friends. Watch his face as he begins to tell his story. But no matter the quality of everything around him, the scene is all De Niro. As the devout Father, we see what goes unheard as he most assuredly questions his God. Should he betray his faith to save once innocent boys now turned guilty men?
Let’s watch:
As I’ve written before, narration in film is lazy. Okay, maybe it’s acceptable in a few documentaries, especially about animals. Heck, if Morgan Freeman doesn’t speak for the penguins, who will? But it is entirely unnecessary otherwise and hand-holding exposition is no substitute for storytelling. Sleepers in no exception. Shakes details every important moment in the film, including this moment. It is pointless and aggravating, especially since most of what he is saying is happening visually on screen. It’s a style that rarely works. Moving on.
Briefly about the movie itself, Levison does a terrific job recreating New York in the late 60s, and it’s a joy to soak in the details. The cars and shops, the city streets and atmosphere are – perhaps stylized to fit our romanticized vision of that time – really well done. The young boys are well cast too, and they are fun to watch as they bond and cause general mischief. However, because the opening narration told us so, we know something bad is around the corner and when it comes it is entirely ridiculous.
They have stolen a hot dog cart and in an attempt to thwart the haggard but persistent owner, they teeter it on the top edge of a subway stairwell. They lose control and it tumbles down in a cacophony of twisted metal, flying sausage and condiments that would make a NASCAR pileup envious, straight into the most oblivious bystander in the history of cinema. Of course, clever editing and music mask what surely would have warned any normal human being long before impact, but our victim fills his role with aplomb, facing the incoming meat missile with wide eyes, mouth agape and the paralyzed stance of a deer in headlights. It was cringe worthy in 1996, and doubly so now. Including the narration. (I can’t let that go.)
So it’s off to reformatory school and the real tragedy for the boys because waiting for them is Sean Nokes (Bacon). Bacon supplies one of the stronger performances in the film. He is dutifully creepy and disturbing in the school scenes and wretchedly miserable years later cowering alone in the diner. While he expresses no remorse for his actions, his body and face betray his guilt. For us, we’ve wondered why the two men looking to take revenge don’t wait outside and at least take some measures to conceal their intent. It’s clearly premeditated as they gather in the stairwell and prepare their weapons. Could they not have followed him or lured him into an alley? We know they’re gangsters, but come on, boys. A little tact. A little panache. A lot of common sense. Also, while the two actors are well cast and do a fitting job as baddies, Bacon is leagues above them. He chews up his scenes with fervor. Dare we say . . . a little Footloose.
Let’s talk De Niro. We’re not going to deny his contribution to film. His early work set new standards and his characters defined what an entire genre of films would become. But we also can’t deny that he is basically the same man in every movie and, for us, it is never much more than De Niro being De Niro. He’s entirely in on this of course, and has made a second career exploiting it to sometimes very amusing effect. There are glimmers of the old master in recent work. He was astounding in the Silver Linings Playbook.
In Sleepers, it’s initially hard to accept De Niro as a man of the cloth, though his early scenes with the boys are good at establishing his character. He has some effective moments throughout, but we can’t help but wonder if he is packing heat under his vestments.
Either way, this haunting moment has always really affected me. Watch how well it’s constructed, Levinson staging the characters in this triangulated arrangement with nearly no movement. It retains an element of intimacy while at the same time, through body language (they each are hunched with arms across their waists) there is a distance that cannot be closed. Levinson reveals this by pushing slowing in on each face before pulling the camera back into the next room. He wisely keeps Carol (Minnie Driver), a childhood friend of Shakes, silent, allowing one gentle expression of sadness. This after all is about Father Bobby. And boy does it work.
The priest starts out uncomfortably, one hand on his chin, his eyes darting, looking like he isn’t sure what to expect. He certainly must have had some assumptions about why the boys he once knew would murder a man in cold blood. They were gangsters now, probably wrapped up in some nefarious doings that instigated the crime. What he hears however is naturally repulsive. Watch De Niro. Notice the slight twist in his mouth, how his lips are not quite aligned. These words have a stench, a vile taste about them that are literally wringing his face into pain. And then his eyes … they settle on Shakes and that glorious long shot begins.
Long steady close-ups like this are not all that common in movies. Carl Theodor Dreyer‘s The Passion of Joan of Arc famously made excellent use of this technique to very stirring effect way back in 1928 (you can watch the entire film on YouTube – do it!) and more recently Tobe Hooper did it with Les Miserables, to far less effect in my opinion. In that film, it feels like a gimmick. Levinson doesn’t do so here. It feels entirely natural and in a word: perfect.
While I’m not a fan of the entire film, Sleepers does have some worthy performances and good direction. John William‘s score is moody and subtle, never over-taking or intruding on the action, though it is not particularly memorable either. That defines the whole experience. The cast is populated by A-listers and up and comers. Still, it is heavy-handed and there is just something off with the entire production. What could have been a truly moving and important story instead falls flat, save a single harrowing scene in Father Bobby’s living room. This saves the whole thing and reason further why movies touch us so deeply. It’s a great movie moment.