Opening in East Texas in 1989, the movieintroduces us to Richard Dane (Michael C. Hall), a framer and family man, who awakens to find an intruder in his home. He investigates, gun in hand, surprises the burglar, and in a startled moment of confusion, his gun goes off, killing the intruder, who conveniently turns out to be a wanted felon. Simple enough, especially in Texas, a state that takes a fairly relaxed attitude towards circumstances like this. Wrong. The problems begin when the dead man’s father (Sam Shepard), a career criminal, gets out of prison, and he’s not too thrilled about the fate of his son. Ah, the viewer will say, it’s a revenge movie. Sam Shepard is going to terrorize the holy hell out of this man, his wife, and their son to get even for the loss of his own. And that’s how it starts to play out, like an East Texas Cape Fear…until it isn’t. Amidst all the pulpy, gritty fun, the occasional problem still rears its head. The final battle and the lead up to it may work as a slow boil on the printed page, it doesn’t quite add up, here. The film’s early refusal to adhere to genre convention is thrown into stark relief by the gleeful violence of the film’s final act, which is delivered with as much punch and gore as possible, while not necessarily chasing the kinds of flash that a Robert Rodriguez or Quentin Tarantino would find so irresistible in a movie like this (despite the prominent inclusion of could be ironic but actually might not be ridiculous hair metal power ballad “Wait” by Steelheart). These are minor complaints for a film that is such a smart ride from start to finish (Sam Shepard is, as expected, terrific, and Don Johnson has an infectiously grand time as Jim Bob). Cold in July is tightly paced, boasts a surprising sense of humor, and is as entertaining as can be. Jim Mickle has come a long way since Mulberry St., and hopefully it won’t be the last time he collaborates with Mr. Lansdale. If nothing else, we need to see Don Johnson step into Jim Bob Luke’s boots again.
title: “Cold In July Review” ShowToc: true date: “2025-08-15” author: “Louis Eichhorn”
Dexter’s Michael C Hall stars as Richard, a quiet, mild-mannered family man who shoots an intruder in his living room one sultry summer night. Shaken to the core by the experience, Richard’s once humdrum life is disrupted further by the appearance of the intruder’s father, Russel (Sam Shepard), who manages to lace even the most softly-spoken utterance with a thread of barely-concealed menace. What begins as a moody, minimalist collision of Cape Fear and David Cronenberg’s small town thriller A History Of Violence soon metamorphoses into something else entirely. Twist follows twist until the film’s mid-point, when Don Johnson’s swaggering pig farmer and private eye Jim Bob thunders into town in a lipstick red convertible to throw the story through a loop. Like Blue Ruin earlier this year, Cold In July engages because its protagonist isn’t a stock character from the big book of thriller cliches. In a genre typically filled with rugged men like Ben and Jim Bob, Richard’s about as macho as a bicycle with a basket on the front, and Michael C Hall superbly embodies a man who’s slow to awaken to his latent killer instinct. The uniformly excellent cast brings charisma and subtlety to Cold In July’s drama, and the film’s all the stronger for letting each actor suggest what their character’s thinking or planning through their body language rather than slabs of exposition. Cinematographer Ryan Samul plays a key role here, helping Mickle build up a believably grimy 80s world of top-loading video recorders, big hair and even bigger station wagons – his use of colour, light and shade might recall the work of John Dahl or the Coen brothers, but it also carries the hyper-real quality of directors like Mario Bava or Dario Argento. Some of the best scenes are non-verbal: the superbly lit and edited opening, where Michael C Hall, shiny-eyed with fear, discovers the lurker in his home. Then there’s the immediate aftermath, where Richard and his wife Ann (Vinessa Shaw) silently scrub their gore-spattered living room in a doomed attempt to excise the incident from their memories. There’s an air of the mundane in these scenes, but also something else at play under the surface – a sense of foreboding and anticipation, like the crackle in the air before a storm. Killing and grey areas of morality are common fodder for thriller writers, yet Mickle successfully gets under the skin of a familiar subject, exploring the psychological impact of Richard’s actions as well as the deadly ripple of interconnected incidents it triggers. Those incidents are unpredictable and increasingly dark, as the story lurches from place to place and even genre to genre; Mickle steps outside the realms horror here, yet he still brings a horror-like dread to certain moments, all underscored by Jeff Grace’s wonderfully retro, seedy and John Carpenter-like score. The seemingly effortless gravity of Sam Shepard and Don Johnson’s performances is joined by a wry and welcome injection of black humour, particularly as the story switches gear after the mid-point: Johnson riffs gamely on his sex symbol status, and gets into flailing altercations with anyone foolish enough to put a scratch on his beloved convertible – irrespective of how hulking and formidable they might be. Visually and dramatically, Cold In July manages to surprise and entertain from its blue-hued opening to the crimson final stretch. Cold In July is out in UK cinemas on the 27th June. Follow our Twitter feed for faster news and bad jokes right here. And be our Facebook chum here.
