The Tax Collector
Edwin Arnaudin: After tarnishing the DCEU’s already bad reputation with Suicide Squad (2016) and letting the world know that “fairy lives don’t matter today” in the awkward fantasy mash-up of Bright (2017), David Ayer returns to the realistic, gritty Los Angeles streets of his roots with The Tax Collector. Is it a welcome homecoming or do you wish he’d stayed in the Land of Make-Believe?
James Shotwell: I welcome everything Ayer does with open arms. It’s like a toxic relationship. He’s hurt me time and time again, but when he’s good, it’s game changing. I’m always willing to roll the dice on his latest creation, especially when he pulls double duty as writer and director. The Tax Collector is, in many ways, a return to form that his devotees have been longing to see. I take it you disagree?
Edwin: Our relationship is beyond toxic, though — out of professional courtesy — I keep giving him chances to rebound, and still hope that he one day will. He and Antoine Fuqua sold their souls in a joint deal to make one great film in Training Day, and Ayer’s End of Watch is fairly solid until it cheats on its found-footage premise, but the other films he’s made since then have been disastrous (Sabotage) or tedious (Fury). The Tax Collector may be a new low for him. Suicide Squad and Bright were at least entertaining in their awfulness, but his latest effort feels like a sad rehashing of subplots from his earlier LA crime flicks — and without the talent or budget to offer even minor distractions from the rote storytelling.
James: I could not disagree more about Fury or Sabotage. Both films have their flaws, which you already touched upon, but they also deliver some big wins. Fury, in particular, does a wonderful job of humanizing the familiar world of war films. It’s not about the bursts of ultra-violence as much as it is the relationships and codependency the characters rely on to survive uncertain times.
The Tax Collector finds something similar in its exploration of the relationship between Creeper (Shia LaBeouf) and David (Bobby Soto, A Better Life). They’re both trying to survive in a world where they will more than likely end up dead, and the only reason they’re alive when we meet them is because of the perfect balance struck by their unique personalities. I could spend hours riding alongside them.
Personally, I think The Tax Collector’s biggest flaw is that it forgoes Ayer’s knack for random bursts of action in preference of what has become trendy, which is building to one big, calamitous burst of violence in the third act that throws all character development and whatever groove the film has found to the wind.
Edwin: I found the leads’ rapport as they drive around picking up payments from various drug dealers, well, taxing. Soto gives one of the worst performances of 2020 thus far and LaBeouf’s ambiguous hispanic delivery is the most inconsistent accent work since Jennifer Lawrence in American Hustle.
As for their dialogue, it’s the same old gangster jibber-jabber that Ayer's been recycling his entire career, and it isn’t helped by the dull manner with which they’re filmed, especially the handheld shots from the backseat of Creeper’s black Suburban. And when violence does occur at major turning points, it’s so clumsily introduced that it’s as if Ayer forgot what scenes he was filming on that particular day.
James: I will concede that there is a lot of trope-heavy fluff in the ride along scenes, but Shia’s delivery and the energy he conveys kept me hooked. The bit about him being on a keto diet and practicing meditation added complexity to what would otherwise be a paper thin character.
Edwin: Those struck me as such corny details — signs of Ayer straining for even a shred of average-person relatability — that I wish he’d stuck with humorless tough-guy chatter. The golden era of quirky hitmen (Pulp Fiction; The Professional) feels like it was eons ago.
James: Soto, on the other hand, fails to deliver the way a lead actor should. I want to root for him, and he’s given a dozen chances to make the part his own, but he has no presence. Maybe Shia outshines him so much that the subtlety of what he’s trying to do is lost, but that may be giving him too much credit.
Edwin: Another gangster with a heart of gold? *yawn* And Ayer saddling his protagonist with his own name is next-level egotism. But I should say something nice about The Tax Collector, besides its blessedly short 90-minute runtime, and…well…I guess the drone shots make LA look cool and the slow-mo shootout is nicely handled. The guy can’t write or guide his cast to respectable performances, but he’s good for at least one decent action sequence per film.
James: I enjoyed the violence to an extent. There’s a sequence involving an individual whose face is pressed against pavement while hanging out of a moving car that made me uneasy in a good way. My issue with everything that follows that scene, however, is that it feels pulled from another world. David leads a crew through an ultra-violent series of events, but the movie never positions him as being someone who would retaliate in that manner (that was Creeper’s job).
Still, I enjoyed the flow of the film. I wish the occult aspects of villain Conejo (played by LA rapper named, well, Conejo) were explored. And I wish George Lopez, who was surprisingly great, had a larger presence. But overall, I’d watch it again, and give it a C-plus.
Edwin: You’re on your own there. From Conejo’s bilingual conversations that go in and out at random, to Lopez being miscast as a heavy, to LaBeouf being in the film for so short a span that Blood leader Bone (Cle Sloan — real-life nickname…you guessed it…”Bone”) should have received higher billing, there’s nothing here to call me back. Ayer’s latest Training Day reheat is easily his worst film — but there’s (hopefully) nowhere for him to go but up. It gets a D-minus from me.
Grade: C-minus. Not rated, but with adult themes and language, violence and disturbing images. Available to rent via Amazon Video, iTunes, and other streaming services.
(Photo: RLJE Films)
