Jennifer Esposito's 'Fresh Kills' is a raw, original, and old fashioned cinema delight
A mafia tale told from the point of view of the women in the family for once.
Word to the wise: It wasn’t just the men who carried all the rage and power in an organized crime family. The women had voices, supplied the backbone of the family behind the criminal-laden family, and loved the imperfect men who at once heightened and endangered their lives for years. For decades, Hollywood has ignored this perspective in mobster flicks.
Instead of waiting around for a big shot producer to give her the platform and arena to tell a much-needed story, Jennifer Esposito had a better idea: I’ll just do it all myself. She wrote, directed, and co-stars in Fresh Kills, a movie that depicts the brutal coming of age process for two daughters in an organized crime family. For Rose (Emily Bader) and Connie (Odessa A’zion), growing up with a father (Domenick Lombardozzi) doing shady deeds and participating in a criminal world takes a toll and asks for a fair portion of one’s soul.
While the rebellious Connie is more at ease with the idea of the family money being blood-stained, Rose’s heart resembles more of a powder keg of conscience. She doesn’t exactly know what is going on beyond the walls of her Staten Island (Fresh Kills stands for a former landfill and riverbed stream) home, but it’s not legit or something her heart can put up with for much longer. What The Irishman, Goodfellas, and The Sopranos spent a handful of minutes on, Esposito spends an entire film breaking down.
She’s the matriarch of the powerful Larusso family, the knife to Lombardozzi’s .38 pistol. It’s a performance that gathers power as the movie ages, and Esposito kills it. After decades in the industry waiting for a screenwriter out there to give her a full-bodied character to play, the actress and filmmaker wrote it herself. Her Francine doesn’t lead with loud speeches or force, installing a sense of resilience in her daughters that is a recipe for survival. You instantly buy her in this world, because she has been a student of it since a very young age being a Brooklyn native.
Bader’s expressions will haunt you and she gets to deliver the speech of a lifetime in the movie’s climax opposite Lombardozzi, but it’s A’zion who inserts firepower into the role of the big sister who is ready to dish out or take a beating 24/7/365. Carrying the energy of a bullet train with a “my way or the highway” wit, Connie is a believer in the mafia code and collides with her sister. She makes you believe in the morality of the movie by showing you each side of the coin: a loving daughter and someone who understands life is finite.
Hat tip to the always excellent Lombardozzi for giving Joe Larusso all the heart, vigor, and power that the role needed. If you’re going to hold your own in a sea of strong females, a certain kind of actor with an easygoing presence is required. Going toe-to-toe with an actress like Annabella Sciorra (playing a fellow crime family matriarch) isn’t for actor rookies. Dom lends the film an authentic touch.
The patience of the film is a big deal. Instead of a retreaded opening monologue from a male character about the fallacies and chaos of their land, Esposito gives us an opening shot of Bader’s heroine with a blood-stained cheek and muscle car next to the river, contemplating the prices of a family who makes their living off the backs of others and the law. Instead of just moving through the rooms and giving us a whiff of the life, Esposito lets the camera move like the unbridled yet sure energy of the female leads. It’s never wavering or rushing, just present and in the scene.
Fresh Kills is wonderfully dressed in an 80s-90s film aesthetic, stripped down and devoid of bullshit window dressing or distractions. The look of a film should always align with the heart of the story and characters, and it’s a match here. The lazy yet determined fog on the always wet streets, pulsating music, and wardrobes are all 1987 sharp, carrying over with the story into the late 90s. Without hammering us over the head with the technique, Esposito uses the cinema lens as a path to paint a realistic picture.
Don’t wait on this one. It’s from the heart, a place every moviegoer likes a piece of fiction to come from. Kevin Costner isn’t the only filmmaker to put some skin in the game; Esposito put up her own cash and livelihood on the line to make Fresh Kills a reality, because the big studios’ biggest attempt at this mafia viewpoint was the wretched 2019 film, The Kitchen. An often unintentionally comedic take did the ladies behind the men zero justice, but Esposito’s film restores that order. I hope she keeps directing, because her style reminds me of another renegade female director: Lorene Scafaria.
Instead of waiting around for it to be done right, Jennifer Esposito did it all herself with the help of some trustworthy friends. The result is a fine addition to the crime family movie collection. Raw and unnervingly honest in its depiction of living a life caught in the web of criminality, Fresh Kills deserves your attention. It’s cheaper than a specialty drink at Starbucks on Prime. It’ll be getting a second viewing from me. Salut!