Here comes James Gray’s “Paper Tiger,” having just screened in competition at Cannes, an old-school crime melodrama centered on brotherhood, ambition, and societal collapse.
What to make of this film, which is being raved about by outlets such as IndieWire and THR, yet derided on Letterboxd by festival attendees? Gray has always been a critical darling, but one who has rarely excited mainstream moviegoers. So who’s right this time?
Having seen it, I can attest that “Paper Tiger” delivers some of Gray’s most suspenseful filmmaking alongside moments of heavy-handed melodrama. Gray has always romanticized his stories and characters, sometimes to a disorienting degree, and this film is no exception. The film’s first half builds an intensely oppressive atmosphere. The middle section is somewhat flawed, sometimes too melodramatic, and an additional script polish might have tightened the narrative, but the final third is utterly gripping.
In many ways, the film plays like a hybrid of the nerve-rattling suspense of “We Own the Night” and the deeply personal storytelling of “Armageddon Time.” Believe it or not, the events depicted in “Paper Tiger” are rooted in incidents that actually occurred during Gray’s childhood.
Set in 1980s Queens, the film follows engineer Irwin, played by Miles Teller, an obvious stand-in for Gray’s father, who becomes entangled in a dangerous business scheme orchestrated by his charismatic ex-cop brother Gary, played by Adam Driver. Gary convinces Irwin to partner with Russian mobsters on a toxic-waste cleanup deal, selling it as an easy path to wealth. Naturally, things spiral out of control.
There are several standout sequences here, some hinting at Lumet-esque style — among the strongest filmmaking Gray has ever delivered. In one particularly harrowing scene, Irwin takes his two sons to Brooklyn at night to witness the Russian cleanup operation because he wants them to be proud of their father’s new business venture. But when Irwin starts asking questions, paranoid Russian enforcers violently intimidate him while terrorizing the boys trapped inside the car. The moment lingers because of a chilling line delivered by one of the mobsters after snatching his ID: “Now we know where you live.” From there, the film descends into a nightmare of paranoia and dread — some it feels like it’s straight out of a horror movie.
One of the film’s most terrifying sequences comes late at night, when Irwin is abruptly awakened by noises inside the house. Irwin slowly leaves the bedroom in a daze, still half-asleep, only to realize intruders have entered the family home. The sequence becomes suffocatingly tense as shadowy figures move through the house. Gray stages the scene with agonizing patience: the home is nearly silent, the darkness broken only by looming shadows stylized as though they’ve been lifted straight out of a 1930s German Expressionist nightmare. What makes the scene especially chilling is the realization that the mobsters are no longer issuing abstract threats from afar — they have penetrated his private world.
The climax is another nail-biter, which I won’t reveal here, but it’s staged with the kind of mounting suspense that would make Hitchcock proud. By this point, Gary’s arrogance and misplaced confidence have dragged everyone deeper into danger, leading to violence that feels both shocking and inevitable.
The performances are also top-notch. Driver brings it by delivering some of the best work of his career. He’s magnetic yet deeply reckless — a man convinced that charm and confidence can solve everything even as disaster rapidly closes in around him. Teller is also effective, capturing Irwin’s growing panic, guilt, and disillusionment as he realizes just how badly he has endangered his family.
Then there’s Scarlett Johansson as Hester. To show just how divisive the performance may prove, some of her line deliveries even earned scattered chuckles during tonight’s press screening. Based on Gray’s mother, who died of brain cancer when he was very young, Hester begins suffering headaches and memory lapses while quietly undergoing medical tests behind her family’s back. Johansson’s doctor’s office scene — where she finally receives her diagnosis — is absolutely heartbreaking.
Ultimately, this is a flawed yet compelling return to Gray’s roots in gritty New York crime drama. It will only further convince Gray diehards that he remains one of America’s great auteurs, though it’s unlikely to win over his detractors. Gray refuses to change the way he makes movies, embracing an old-school classicism that may feel dated to some, but to others represents one of the last remnants of a distinctly American style of filmmaking that barely exists anymore.