Movie Review: ‘Dallas Buyers Club’

To the surprise of many, Matthew McConaughey may turn out to be one of the better actors of his generation. He’s always had the charisma, but sometime in the last few years, some gear shifted in him – that charisma is now being used in much more multifaceted ways, and the effect is something like a revelation.

McConaughey’s latest project is “Dallas Buyers Club,” in which he plays Ron Woodroof. Woodroof is a Texas electrician who, after being diagnosed with AIDS, does much to further AIDS treatment by staking out radical, tenuously legal ways of coping with whatwas, in 1986, considered a death sentence. The abbreviated biopic centers around the titular club, a membership-only clinic that Woodroof operates with his transgender would-be business partner, Rayon (Jared Leto). Their club, initially a business venture as well as a personal treatment facility, saves many lives.

Quebecois director Jean-Marc Vallée brings a confident hand to what could have been a very standard, generic picture. Many films of the biopic genre are quick to make every moment glow with satisfaction, drowned in the knowledge that the subject is worthy. Although not radical in most other aspects, “Dallas Buyers Club” is curiously deprived of moments that force admiration. Rather, Vallée and McConaughey show respect to Woodroof in the best way possible: by making him really fun to watch.

That’s not to say that the film’s ailing protagonist is offered for amusement – although Woodroof, a fervent rebel with a staunch libertarian spirit, is plenty amusing. It’s more to say that McConaughey commands attention in a natural way, rather than forcing it upon the audience through the narrative.

In fact, there’s an astonishing plethora of unsavory detail in the opening moments of the film. A stereotypical bigot, Woodroof’s diagnosis is an especially ugly scene, where his neurosis about appearing as a gay makes him unpleasant to watch.

And yet the scene does not play out as audience torture – unlikable as he is in those scenes, the film keeps a sprightly, forward-motion tone that allows the audience to accept Woodroof as he is. Certainly the film’s handheld aesthetic, not prone to overemphasizing moments of drama, helps McConaughey’s rabid, rambunctious performance.

But what makes the characterization really impressive is that it maintains specificity, even as the film sweeps over the seven years it covers. Vallée chooses to cut intertitles signifying time into the film at different junctures, never losing track of where the story is at present.

And as time flies, McConaughey again subtly shades Woodroof’s acceptance of a new outlook as something that the character really develops, rather than changes. Vallée also pulls a trick by making some neat montages of Woodroof developing relationships with ethnic businessmen – the point is not pushed, but felt.

Unfortunately, as much as the film succeeds with character study, it doesn’t have much else on its mind, leaving the ultimate import a little dissatisfying. A lot of complexities of the era are left unexplored – the film’s implicit critique of Food and Drug Administration practices, for instance, might have benefited from a more aggressive treatment.

And aesthetically, the film isn’t too special; the handheld camera that helps with rhythm hampers visual pleasures, so one is hard pressed to find expressive moments outside of McConaughey’s face.

Ultimately, “Dallas Buyers Club” wages a small battle against conventional biopics and wins thoroughly, making a character study that’s a few fathoms deeper than most. But it nevertheless feels a bit slight, with a perspective that increasingly feels narrow. McConaughey inhabits his role with abandon, but the film doesn’t seem to follow suit.