Writer/director Marcellus Cox proved with his feature film Mickey Hardaway that he wasn't afraid to get gritty and he wasn't afraid to say things we don't always want to hear. With this film, the 15-minute dramatic short Liquor Bank, Cox returns to the harsh realities of life to explore a deeply meaningful, powerfully realized story of addiction, human connection, showing up, and the sliver of hope for redemption.
Eddie (Antwone Barnes) is a former marine whose background we know very little about as we're introduced to him. He's been sober for a year, however, on the eve of celebrating his one-year sobriety anniversary at a local AA meeting he relapses.
He misses the meeting.
Baker (Sean Alexander James) shows up at his humble, lived-in home as a friend and sponsor and, perhaps, the only thing resembling light he may possibly be able to see.
I first encountered Cox's work early in his journey with Mickey Hardaway. Mickey Hardaway was a film that hit hard and hit relentlessly. I would say that Liquor Bank hits just as hard, though it's a little more subtle in tone. Based on a true story, it's a film that feels like a true story and it also feels as if it taps into Cox's own experiences in the aftermath of the critically praised Mickey Hardaway and the days, weeks, and months after when Cox struggled to find a way to market such a powerful film and to move on to his next feature project.
Sure, this story is different. Yet, it resonates. Antwone Barnes gives a quiet tour-de-force performance as Eddie, a man whose vulnerability in recovery is carried in his every word, look, and gesture. There's not an ounce of cliche' in Barnes's performance and he wisely plays it softer rather than dipping into histrionuics.
Sean Alexander James is similarly wonderful as Baker, who simultaneously carries the weight of his own recovery while willingly staying present with Eddie long after others would have slipped away. James's Baker is hardcore yet fully present, filled with tough love yet also completely aware of the demons inside Eddie.
Together, these two feel genuine with performances that hit all the right notes.
Lensing by Fabian J. Tehrani captures the dim nature of recovery and the fragile existence of this human connection and the desperate search for light. Tehrani's lensing doesn't make any empty promises and yet it projects a normalcy between these people and in this home. This isn't melodrama. It's real life.
Cox has crafted an incredibly relational, deeply felt story that somehow all unfolds in the matter of a 15-minute running time. There's not a false note here, though perhaps one single glance near film's end where I felt like a look seemed too intentional. Yet, the storytelling here is remarkable and authentic.
I said it before and I'll say it again. Marcellus Cox is a filmmaker to watch. Cox is a remarkable storyteller grounded in the richness of universal experiences and equally gifted at bringing these stories to life. If you get a chance, check out Liquor Bank.
Written by Richard Propes
The Independent Critic
