Murder Most Foul: Film Review of Knives Out: Wake Up Dead Man
★★★1/2
By Geoff Carter
Illustration by Michael DiMilo
Start with an eccentric but brilliant detective, a seemingly unsolvable locked-room murder, a cast of characters plucked straight from an Agatha Christie mystery, and some petty small-town political intrigues. Then add a dash of Hollywood star power, a dollop of wicked humor, and a pinch of social commentary, and what do you get? The latest in the Knives Out mystery franchise, Wake Up Dead Man.
The Knives Out franchise is the modern-day cinematic paragon of the traditional detective story. It’s sort of a mash-up between Agatha Christie, James Lee Burke, and Dorothy Sayers—on the silver screen. Brainchild of writer and director Rian Johnson, whose previous credits include Looper, Star Wars: The Last Jedi, and two previous installments of the Knives Out series, the franchise has become the gold standard of film murder mysteries.
Wake Up Dead Man begins as Father Jed Duplencity (Josh O’Connor) is writing his recollection of the events leading up to a murder. Father Jed, a Catholic priest—and former boxer—has been transferred from his post after punching a deacon. He has been assigned as assistant pastor to Monsignor Jefferson Wicks (James Brolin) at the Our Lady of Perpetual Fortitude Church in rural New York.
Eager to prove himself, Father Jed quickly discovers that Wicks rules his small but close-knit parish with an iron hand. They are either slavishly devoted to the man or beholden to him because the monsignor knows where all the bodies are buried.
Martha Delacroix (Glenn Close) is a devout churchgoer and Wicks’ right-hand woman. Simone Vivane (Caillee Spaeny) is a disabled cello player hoping Wicks can cure her of a debilitating nerve disease. Dr. Nat Sharp (Jeremy Renner) is an alcoholic doctor whose wife has just left him. Cy Draven (Daryl McCormack) is a ruthless aspiring politician and conservative influencer Vera Draven (Kerry Washington) is Wicks’ lawyer and Cy’s adoptive mother.
Samson Holt (Thomas Hayden Church) is the parish handyman. Lee Ross (Andrew Scott) is a novelist trying to resuscitate his career. This is the circle—but not one of trust.
Other churchgoers outside the circle who happen to wander into Sunday masses are singled out and humiliated by Monsignor Wicks. It seems obvious he wants to keep his circle of worshippers closed. Father Jed is appalled at the monsignor’s harshness and attempts to bring a spirit of giving and harmony to the church, but when Father Jed attempts to reach out to his parishioners, he is intimidated by Wicks and rebuffed by his insular flock.
As he gets to know the parishioners, Father Jed discovers the clandestine relationships, sordid secrets, and skeletons in the closet that haunt this insular society—and is appalled at the monsignor’s willingness to exploit each and every one of them for his own gain.
When a seemingly unsolvable murder occurs, the local police chief Scott (Mila Kunis) calls on renowned detective Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig) to help with the investigation. Blanc promptly recruits Father Jed—the prime suspect—to assist him.
In a screenplay that is as intricately plotted as any Christie novel, Blanc navigates the intrigues and petty jealousies of this parochial community in a convoluted and wryly sardonic path to the truth. Along the way, Father Jed—along with various members of the congregation—goes through some rather harrowing soul-searching.
One of the many reasons the Knives Out franchise is so popular is because of Craig’s performances as super detective Benoit Blanc. Bringing a combination of wry and off-beat humor (as when he starts playing jiggledies with the corpse of the murder victim), genteel southern charm, and unqualified deductive brilliance to the character, Blanc rivals Hercule Poirot, Lord Peter Wimsey, or Sherlock Holmes as the genre’s strangest and most outlandishly offbeat sleuths. Craig’s sense of timing is impeccable, and his courteous but subtly aggressive assertiveness could have come straight out of a New Orleans .
In the spirit of a great Hollywood tradition, the film boasts a star-studded supporting cast of victims and suspects who turn in excellent performances. As the monsignor, Josh Brolin hands in a performance of toxic masculinity laced with wicked humor. Brolin is a vastly underrated comic actor who can color the macho posturing of a protagonist with a sly sense of self-deprecation—as in Sicario—or give a wryly rendered portrait of the weary noir detective—as in Hail Caesar!
Glenn Close hands in a brilliant performance as the devout and slavishly devoted Martha. Jeremy Renner, as always, is outstanding as the weak-minded and spineless Dr. Sharp. Thomas Hayden Church—an actor who never seems to be acting—is reliably solid as the—well—reliable Samson. While a number of the characters’ performances here stretch beyond the confines of the whodunit stereotypes, they are all grounded in the foundation of the traditional murder mystery.
However, director and screenwriter Rian Johnson does stretch a few boundaries. Blanc’s behavior is extreme even for Southern Gothic or eccentric detective standards. The monsignor’s first confession to Father Jed also goes a bit beyond the pale. In Brolin’s hands, it is a bit of brilliantly executed comedy.
Johnson also puts religion, specifically the Catholic Church, in the spotlight. At the beginning, when Bishop Langstrom (Jeffrey Wright) tells Father Jed of his transfer, the young priest speaks eloquently about wanting to preach love and acceptance for all, the true word of Jesus. Of course, when he lands in his new parish, he finds a man of the cloth using religion to consolidate his power. His sermons are designed to intimidate and frighten his congregation—perhaps a reflection of the mores and tactics of our own Christian Nationalists who use religion to reinforce their own elitist and racist ideologies.
Again and again, Father Jed questions his faith, wondering whether he is good enough to convey the word of God. Haunted by his past as a boxer, guilt dogs him everywhere. When he grows angry at the monsignor for using the gospel as a club rather than an open hand, he beats himself up for feeling that way.
Monsignor Wicks, on the other hand, never questions himself or his mission—which is himself. He holds everyone near him under his thumb and at one point, threatens to expose all their sordid secrets. He reviles his own mother and condemns her as a “whore harlot”, and in fact, mythologizes her transgressions as a sort of perverted cautionary tale. Even the resurrection myth is used to further a criminal act. In short, religion has become the weapon of choice.
Detective Blanc proclaims himself an atheist, a man of logic to Father Jed, yet eventually recognizes (not unlike the characters of Flannery O’Connor) the power of Grace. Whether or not Johnson consciously intended the religious subtext as a criticism of Christian Nationalists to be part of this engaging whodunit, it is there, shining loud and bright.
Wake Up Dead Man is a wryly witty and entertaining film. The murder mystery is engaging and well-written, the characters are paragons of the genre, and the direction is sharp and crisp. This film also stretches the envelope of the genre, criticizing the abuses and sins of those who use the church for their own gain—and criticizing elements of our own godliness in the process.