Film Review: The Devil All The Time

The Devil All The Time is the latest Netflix release from director and co-writer, Antonio Campos, adapting the book of the same name by Donald Ray Pollock, who also happens to serve as the film’s unnamed narrator. The film covers a large ensemble and taking place over a couple decades, but the general idea behind it is the exploration of how the effects of violence and religion ripple through multiple generations that we follow with various points of connections that largely lead to very bad things happening, sometimes to those who deserve it, and sometimes for those who do not.

If there is anyone that could potentially resemble a lead here, it would probably be in Arvin Russell (younger version played by Michael Banks Repeta and older version played by Tom Holland). He’s the son of a Willard (Bill Skarsgård), a haunted WWII vet trying to reconnect with God. His life has been shaped by actions of various characters such as s shady preacher, a serial killer couple, a crooked sheriff, and those actions cast a large shadow up to his present day, creating an unfortunate set of circumstances that leads him to go on a journey to unleash a reckoning.

If it sounds like I’m being vague with the story description here, it’s because I am doing that on purpose. It’s not necessarily because I want to preserve any surprises, but simply because the film covers a lot. Lots of characters, lots of connected beats, lots of time. It’s a very ambitious film, certainly the most ambitious from Campos. I haven’t read the book, but there is a very distinct, “Great American Novel” vibe based on what’s seen here, a sprawling epic that covers weighty themes like toxic masculinity, religious fanaticism, cycles of violence, poverty, war, mental illness, etc.

Campos’ previous film, the 2016 biopic Christine, was an terrific film that showcased a strong ability to set an oppressive mood. Those qualities are increased here as he dives headfirst into the sweaty, grimy, Southern gothic atmosphere that I found incredibly captivating. It does make for a very bleak experience, with little room for levity, though I did find some lines both within scenes, and sometimes with the narrator’s timing to have a darkly comic tinge to it. I didn’t find it to be as relentlessly brutal as some of my peers have described, but it’s seriousness does make the brutality land rather hard when it does hit. I should say just as a trigger warning, there is a dog death about 29 minutes into the film, and there’s a brief shot several minutes later of the grisly aftermath.

My issues with the film have less to do with the violence and grimness, and more to do with some of the smaller details that didn’t quite work for me. While performances are solid across the board, there doesn’t seem to be any consistence with the southern accents, everyone is kind of going their own way. I also find that given the impoverished setting and characters, all the characters come across just a little too clean and polished. The griminess of their environment doesn’t really reflect on the work put into the makeup. And speaking of makeup, despite some characters showing up throughout the expansive timeline, they don’t seem to age all that much, aside from maybe a change in hairdo.

But like I said, the performances do still manage to work, and they work quite well. Holland delivers pretty strong work, bringing a more stoic presence than we’re used to from him. The extensive cast featuring folks like Bill Skarsgård, Jason Clarke, Riley Keough, Sebastian Stan, Eliza Scanlen, Haley Bennett, Mia Wasikowska, and Harry Melling do solid, sturdy work even with varying degrees of screentime, with no real weak link. However, one must bring up Robert Pattinson, who plays one of the questionable preachers, and his accent, which is easily the most pronounced. I found it to be a fun and engaging choice, one that – similarly to his bit in 2019’s The King – stands out because no one else is really stretching beyond what’s expected. I can see him maybe being a distraction, but I thought it was perfect for what this movie was, and I honestly wished more of the performers were willing to go as big.

Once it was all said and done, I did enjoy The Devil All The Time quite a bit. However, I didn’t come out loving it, and I don’t think the film comes close to achieving the ambitions of its heavy themes, but I admired that it was willing to take a swing. I dig these kinds of violent, depraved, bleak, sleazy films anyway, so despite its faults, I was able to find myself engrossed in its filmmaking and in its performances. Obviously, if this kind of material isn’t your cup of tea, it’s not great enough to transcend any initial apprehensions, plus, it is quite a long sit. However, there is some satisfaction to be found in seeing all the pieces fall into place, as we find out how one character connects to another, how other characters meet after so much setup, and figuring out who will come out of any given situation alive. I also especially loved Pollock’s somber and melancholic narration. It might not all work as intended, but Antonio Campos displays a strong sense of craftsmanship that continues to prove him to be an exciting filmmaker.

 

The Devil All The Time is now available on Netflix.