There’s a full-length feature waiting to burst out of Lucky Man, drama that is several orders of magnitude more powerful courtesy of popping the characters’ cardboard cutouts into the third dimension. As it stands, Orbach gives us shorthand answers – brotherly bonds, mafioso business ethics, a moral resolution that works – and the occasional inspired character moment. To wit: Frank Vincent’s Paulie, in many respect the kind of mafia kingpin we’ve seen in other crime drama, has a good moment on which he expounds on the value of love and fear – Machiavelli would be so proud. And Gary Pastore adds heart as an enforcer with a compassionate streak, just as John Ales embodies the archetypal screw-up with sympathy and a certain measure of surprising nobility.
More, Please
Still, the overall impact of the morality play affects the cerebellum more than the gut; a single-minded focus on the plot has that effect. We can ask how a man on the path to priesthood came to be indebted to the mob, but a better question is: how does a man in the process of giving his life to God deviate from his moral compass? The “what” is obvious –love – but of all the characters, the priest is the most critical character to fall victim to writer-ly neglect.
What Lucky Man needs is time. The audience needs time to get to know the characters, gain some insight into what makes them tick – then that all-important dilemma, the heartbreaking force of a difficult choice, will allow the story to achieve that coveted knock-out. But Orbach does land a well-struck blow; good filming technique, good cast, the whole shebang. The future’s looking bright for this new filmmaker.