Mark Reviews Movies: I CARE A LOT

Follow on Facebook | Follow on Twitter | Become a Patron

Review by Mark Dujsik | February 18, 2021

The first act of I Care a Lot feels like a fictionalized exposé of some little-known but incredibly sinister loophole in the law. Our legally crooked and morally twisted protagonist runs a business that looks altruistic on the surface, but beneath that outward caring and generosity lies only parasitic greed. Marla Grayson (Rosamund Pike, biting into the role of an elegant and whip-smart leech) is a professional legal guardian for the infirmed and elderly—as long as they have money and/or other assets.

"You're a robber," one of her clients notes—and quite correctly—at one point, and if not for Marla's bright smile and quick tongue and sincere demeanor, everyone else would see that, too. She puts on a good show, though—in court, with the family members of people she has put into assisted-living facilities against their wishes, even under the threat of death when the real plot here gets into motion. The law is on her side, too, so if anyone is going to put a stop to Marla's illegal and immoral actions, that person might have to work outside the law.

Writer/director J Blakeson's movie is intriguing as a test of our sense of morals, our understanding of ethics, and our basic human sympathies. Marla is bad. There's no denying that. The movie never attempts to paint her in any other way, despite the character's best efforts to the contrary (the guise of her philanthropy and the assertion that she's only hated for being a woman in power).

The people who could put a stop to her are pretty terrible, too, so what are we to think? For whom do we root? Is there a deeper point that Blakeson is making by ensuring that we know how ruthless, immoral, and essentially horrible both sides of this conflict actually are?

The point, of course, becomes clear quickly, well before Blakeson puts a not-too-fine point on it at the plot's conclusion (but not, because there is a difference, at the end of the story, which tries to offer some cruel satisfaction to the cruel game the lead character plays). There's little difference between Marla—her goals, methods, and actions—and the more obvious criminals who actually figure out her crimes. There is a big difference, though, between them: She has the law on her side, and they do not. We're almost tempted to side with the blatant criminals, because they're honest about what they do and who they are, at least.

Marla hides behind the law and uses it to her advantage. She finds well-to-do people of a certain age, gets an elderly person's doctor to declare the patient unable to care for themselves, and arranges an emergency hearing, without the key party present, to become that person's legal guardian. Marla has control over the person's life—his or her living arrangements, finances, and property. Some of the money goes to pay for keeping the person in a residential facility, and the rest goes to Marla, along with her business and romantic partner Fran (Eiza González).

Her newest target/ward is Jennifer Peterson (Dianne Wiest), who loses everything in a nightmarish flash. Basically imprisoned in a retirement home and with no way of contacting anyone, Jennifer's situation seems hopeless, but as it turns out, she's secretly the mother of a mobster named Roman (Peter Dinklage), who obviously doesn't appreciate what Marla has done.

At first, the resulting story is a fascinating game of clandestine criminality dressed up as business negotiations and legal maneuvering. There's a particularly noteworthy scene between Marla and a shark of an attorney (played with cool, smiling confidence by Chris Messina), who arrives with a polite appeal of justice for Jennifer and leaves with an equally polite threat against Marla. In between, there's a dance of dialogue—both parties stepping around what they actually want to say, while making the point of it perfectly clear.

In court, Marla has the know-how and connections to keep the opposing attorney at bay. She's not quite as prepared when Roman starts playing with violence. In fact, she's downright offended that anyone would dare step outside the rules of the game at which she's an expert.

The movie isn't quite prepared for this turn, either. Blakeson establishes such a vacuum of morality, pitting two terrible parties against each other, and so cleverly transforms this conflict into a series of discussions, debates, and stratagems that the turn toward a fairly standard thriller does the setup a disservice. Blakeson sets up an intelligent, cunning game of verbal cat-and-mouse and sees it through until a point. After one particularly tough negotiation, Marla has to negotiate matters of real menace and murder.

The story doesn't fall apart when the gears shift so suddenly and drastically, but the movie's subversive and almost sinister exploration of the not-so-thin line between exploitative business and honest-to-badness crime definitely suffers. Indeed, it's almost forgotten by the third act of I Care a Lot, which ups the obvious peril and lays it on thick with situational irony to resolve both the plot and Marla's story. The resolution isn't simplistic, but it is simplified from what has come before it.

Back to Home

Buy Related Products