GAMbIT Magazine #28 Sep-Oct 2017 | Page 42

DEATH NOTE I’ve never seen the anime series Death Note, but if it’s anything like Adam Wingard’s new film adaptation for Netflix, it is almost unbearably stupid. Death Note plays like a montage of missed opportunities, made doubly frustrating because the premise is solid and there are a few performances in the film ranging from not bad to pretty damn good. The first problem, though, might be casting. It’s no secret that Asian roles are routinely whitewashed in Hollywood, even as recently as Doctor Strange and Ghost in the Shell, so it’s not an argument that I’ll reiterate here except to say that it’s shitty. But as a white guy, I’m not the right person to argue about representation; if anything I get too much representation, as evidenced by Death Note casting Behaving Badly‘s Nat Wolff, the world’s least likable boy (Jai Courtney lost the #1 spot after turning in a surprisingly charming performance in Wet Hot American Summer: Ten Years Later) as Light Turner. Wolff manages to be both bland and unlikable at the same time; it’s quite frankly stunning. Light is one of those nerdy outcasts who manages, through no actual effort of his own, to attract the attention of a beautiful cheerleader, Mia Sutton, here played by Margaret Qualley of The Leftovers in what is easily the film’s best performance. Their paths cross shortly after Light comes into possession of the Death Note, a book with demonic powers that ensures the death of anyone whose name is written in its pages. If it seems I’m quickly moving through this plot, well, so does the film; the book (almost literally) falls into Light’s lap almost as soon as the credits end, and by the seven-minute mark Light has already met Ryuk, the horrific entity who carries out the book’s orders. To the film’s credit, Ryuk’s design is one of its strong suits; Wingard (Blair Witch) is wise to frame him mostly in shadow, and Willem Dafoe, who provides Ryuk’s voice, brings equal levels of glee and malice to the role. Death Note sorely misses Ryuk when he’s not on screen, and he and Light have a fun back and forth, as they seem both friendly and adversarial. Light never fully trusts Ryuk, and Ryuk is openly trying to manipulate Ryuk, and its in his scenes opposite Dafoe that Wolff does his best work. Before long, Light and Mia – whose relationship goes from exchanging names to falling deeply in love too quickly to be believable or impactful – are using the Death Note to kill criminals, terrorists, and their ilk across the globe, and they become known (and worshiped) as Kira, which means both light and killer. This is the part of the film that works best, as KIRA SAVES graffiti starts showing up on churches, and Death Note begins to operate on a pleasingly large scale. Unfortunately, it also leads to the film’s biggest weak point and most glaring flaw. That would be the character of L (Lakeith Stanfield), not only the worst character in the film but maybe the worst character ever. Stanfield, who has given good performances in Straight Outta Compton and Get Out, plays L like an autistic, 42 GAMBIT | SEPT/OCT | 2017 hyperactive child; he’s an amalgamation of tics masquerading as a human. There’s too much there there, and L’s whole character is a hat on a hat on a hat. I’m sure there are fifteen- year-old anime dipshits who think that L is the coolest EVAR!!! but in Wingard’s film he’s so obnoxious that shortly after his introduction I nearly stopped watching. L wears a face mask, eats candy nonstop, brags about how little he sleeps, carries a pocket watch, hangs out barefoot, leaps onto chairs and sits on the back, and doesn’t carry a gun because they’re “distracting.” Quirky detectives haven’t aged well – look at Gary Oldman in Leon: The Professional or Dafoe in The Boondock Saints – and L wears out his welcome by his first scene. In a role so potentially eccentric and mannered, Stanfield had the opportunity to give th