Everything is awful, and it always has been: a 'Dead Man's Wire' review
On February 8, 1977, Tony Kiritsis entered the office of Richard Hall, president of the Meridian Mortgage Company, with a sawed-off shotgun. Finding Richard on vacation, Tony settled for his son, taking him hostage with a “dead man’s wire” rigged from the trigger to Tony’s own neck. In a tense week-long stand-off, viewers witness the situation from behind the news camera, inside police conference rooms, and behind the barred door of Kiritsis’ apartment. I had the privilege to watch Dead Man’s Wire, which is based on real-life events, at the 41st Miami Film Festival GEMS, and to interview its director Gus Van Sant (stay tuned for that!).
As I watched Dead Man’s Wire, I could not help thinking, “Why on God’s green earth do we have the exact same problems as 1977?” It is infuriatingly ridiculous. Listen, I’m not trying to say that Kiritsis was in the right. He wasn’t. He isn’t the only character we watch struggle, either; we see Linda Page, a journalist, played by Myha'la, who struggles to be taken seriously by her employer and her efforts to break through the barriers and report on the kidnapping. We see Richard Hall, played by Dacre Montgomery, who is being held hostage, realize that his father does not care to help him in the face of losing money and ‘dignity’ by apologizing to Kiritsis. The lesson is clear: a company will never care about you, not even if it's your father’s.
If you haven’t watched or need a refresher, Kiritsis is a former real estate developer who goes after his mortgage company, which he believes is sabotaging his development deal by steering retailers away from the property, forcing him to default on the loans. Whether Meridian Mortgage Co. actually acted illegally or not is irrelevant as the events unfold, and it raises the question: Are any of those companies ever actually clean?
In the increasingly complicated world we inhabit, one cannot watch this film without immediately thinking of a similar story– Luigi Mangione. Everyone has comforted friends over debt or bills, or the noose their insurance has roped them in. I myself have spent hours on the phone with my loan company for my student loans. It’s a harrowing feeling; the weight of loans is like a boot to the neck. Even in 2026, almost fifty years later, we have the same issues. We have all lived through some version of this, and in anger, many will say some version of:
‘God, I’m gonna kill these people.” There is an understanding that no one means it, but Kiritsis did.
Besides the bleakness of our past, present, and the darkening future, this film was wonderful. Bill Skarsgård’s performance was unsettling, but unlike some of his other disturbing roles, he wasn’t some supernatural creature but a real man, one with a bomb, rage, and resentment. Skarsgård truly made Kiritsis’s frustrations and personality come to life. Equally as good was Dacre Montgomery’s performance; I adored seeing Montgomery’s range, from his roles in Elvis and Stranger Things to his portrayal of Richard Hall. One thing holds true: Dacre is fantastic in a ’70s-80s role. I can’t spill all of the details, but Montgomery truly showed the desperation, fear, and disappointment in a real, tangible way. Both of our leading men were exceptional. I’d also like to highlight some of the ensemble cast– Myha'la as Linda Page and Colman Domingo as Fred Temple were spectacular. You could feel the energy behind Myha’la’s character, her hunger to break through the noise and be a real reporter, to break the glass ceiling as a woman of color. Domingo’s performance was nothing short of stellar; I can’t imagine anyone else taking on that role.
As tense as this movie can be, it is also funny and witty and has an insanely good soundtrack. From “Cannock Chase” by Labi Siffre to “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised” by Gil Scott-Heron, not only was it very reflective of the late 1970s, but it all feels tied to the story in a very special and thoughtful way. Everything about this movie felt intentional and carefully crafted.
This leads me to our little interview with Gus Van Sant. It was my first time meeting a movie director, and I did not know what to expect. I would like to report that he was very pleasant. He wore a soft-looking blue sweater, jeans, and a small smile on his face. I was only allowed one question, and as your local university radio station, I just had to ask him, “What is your process for finding the sonic soul of your projects?”
“I had a Tascam 244, which is similar to the one that Bruce Springsteen uses in Nebraska, which they use in the movie as well…” said Van Sant, referring to Springsteen’s TEAC TASCAM 144 Portastudio four-track cassette recorder, which he used to record the demos for his 1982 album Nebraska.
“[The Tascam] has four tracks you can record on your own. So, I think that ever since I bought that recorder, I've been learning how to mix things together and pan sounds to different parts of the stereo speakers. I've also been mixing backgrounds, you know? and creating sonic works. A lot of the things have some background of, like, actual musique concrète’s, that's created by composers who are working with sounds, not instruments. They use sounds in place of instruments in making their art… I’ve had a lot of their work in mine,” he explained.
For those of us who have no clue what Musique concrète is, it is an experimental form of electroacoustic music that uses recorded sounds as the raw material, much like Van Sant explained. It is the base for modern electronic music–the recorded sounds are manipulated through techniques like speeding up, slowing down, looping, or reversing to create sound collages.
It was a pleasure to meet Gus Van Sant; he was nothing but sweet and unexpectedly meek. You can truly tell he not only cares about his projects but pours his heart and soul into them. If you have not yet seen Dead Man’s Wire, go support your local movie theater!