Black Rabbit

While there are of course obvious qualities in both the acting and the directing if we turn our attention to Ozark, I often find myself completely underestimating Jason Bateman. And I'm talking both about his ability as an actor and his capacity as a director, because it's his episodes in Black Rabbit, which he directed himself, that are the best, and the biggest draw here - is his character Vince. Without any doubt whatsoever. Jude Law harnesses the lead role. Big brother Jake is in the picture more often, more. But it's Bateman's show, Vince's show. Don't think otherwise.

Vince is the black sheep, or 'rabbit,' of the Friedkin family. After a couple of tumultuous years as a New York restaurateur, Vince is kicked out of his brothers' joint, flees the city, and bounces around between various more or less criminal dirty jobs somewhere on the outskirts of Arizona. Meanwhile, his older brother Jake continues to run the Brooklyn-based restaurant/nightclub Black Rabbit to the best of his ability, but his life is turned upside down again when Vince returns home and attracts the same ruthless loan sharks who were on the verge of killing him two years earlier. Jake is also drawn into this turn of events, and the restaurant's future is uncertain, as is the well-being of both brothers.

At its core, Black Rabbit is a fairly ordinary thriller, at least at the concept stage. Two misfit brothers. One is a good-hearted soul who means well, while the other is a real rotten apple who, despite countless opportunities and near-death experiences resulting from poor judgement and alcohol/drug addiction, puts his own family in one sticky situation after another. It is dark in tone and a character study of the highest order, but it never becomes as realistic and misery-drenched as it could have been, and for that we have (once again) Bateman to thank.

There is hope in his Vince, even though he has made every mistake imaginable and ended up in a seemingly unsolvable situation. Jason is convincing with a natural vulnerability that he alternates with a conviction that he himself is 'trying' to do the right thing, even though everything goes wrong. He plays a moderately lovable bastard in just the right way, and there are so many nuances in his portrayal here. At the same time, Jude Law is also worth seeing as the slightly pompous but kind-hearted and, above all, generous Jake, who, with his rotten brother on his hands again, is just trying to make everything work while the bomb that is their existence is constantly about to explode.

Black Rabbit is well written, well structured between episodes, and maintains a very comfortable pace while also incorporating an underlying sense of panic that occasionally caused me to clench my fists during certain parts of some episodes. I like the characters, the setting, and I like the dialogue, which feels natural and believably harsh, without being drenched in New York tropes or overly Netflix-stiff. Overall, I find it refreshingly liberating that Bateman & Co. have not allowed New York City and Brooklyn to act as third characters here, which has become so typical of most things that take place in the Big Apple that I can hardly bear to see any more sweeping images of Crown Heights. That has been done to death, if anything, and in Black Rabbit, Bateman keeps the cameras inside the Black Rabbit, which is an effective and unique setting that neatly frames a tight and stylish thriller drama.