Pretty Good is Pretty Good! In Praise of the Non-Masterpiece: Man from Reno (2014, dir. Dave Boyle, US) by Matt Olsen

Part Four of probably at least one more in this series of recent films that are actually very good despite not being absolutely one-hundred per cent perfect. (In other words, a normal movie.) 

Possibly next to only New York and Los Angeles, San Francisco is one of the most consistently filmed US cities. The area seems to especially lend itself to creating an air of mystery as seen in Vertigo, The Maltese Falcon, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Chan is Missing, and countless others (both classic and not). The easy answer is to attribute it to the city’s geographical features. Namely, the hills, fog, and bay, which give the area an intangible isolation. But other cities have similar qualities and haven’t been employed quite as often or in the same manner. 

With the explosion of the Bay Area’s tech industry over the last few decades, I wonder if some of that sense of the mysterious has dissipated from San Francisco’s cultural identity. Definitively answering questions is the purpose of technology, after all. Perhaps, that rise, internationally, is also partially to blame for the dearth of mystery in American film in general. Horror and violence are still major headliners, of course, but fewer films seem to principally live in that discomfiting area of natural unknown that suspense and mystery offers.

It came as an effervescently pleasing surprise, then, to learn of a contemporary movie that both takes place in San Francisco (without any postcard scenery exploitation) and firmly embraces all the trappings and tells of the genre: hotel room peepholes, blood-stained bandages, unclaimed suitcases, et al. Man from Reno is a story that happens in the “space between breaths”.

Ayako Fujitani plays Aki, a successful but discontented Japanese mystery novelist who abruptly travels to San Francisco without notice or plan. In a hotel lounge, a charming stranger introduces himself and, in time, a palpable attraction draws them together. Meanwhile, on a neighboring rural highway, a police officer (Pepe Serna) happens across a wounded man, wandering through the fog. The two narrative threads initially appear to be unrelated but it shouldn’t come as a surprise that as the story develops these lines converge into secrets, lies, and murder. 

There are some conspicuous antecedents to the film – shadows of the identity games of The Talented Mr. Ripley and the world-weary No Country for Old Men reside within the tapestry here – but only to the lengths of inspiration. Man from Reno’s primary influence comes from its lead character, Aki. The source of her dissatisfaction remains unidentified for the majority of the movie and it’s her mood – quiet, distant – that provides the dominant color of the film. The remote coolness may initially feel too alienating for some viewers but it’s nicely contrasted by the casual and light relationship of the local father/daughter police detectives whose investigations eventually intersect with Aki’s sojourn. 

It would be overly generous to suggest that Man from Reno is on par with The Conversation, etc., but within the category of San Francisco-set mysteries, it definitely earns inclusion as an entirely worthy and well-made, slow-boil, cold-weather tale of crime and deceit.

Matt Olsen is a largely unemployed part-time writer and even more part-time commercial actor living once again in Seattle after escaping from Los Angeles like Kurt Russell in that movie about the guy who escapes from Los Angeles.