In 1977, Tony Kiritsis had a standoff with police amid a hostage situation at a bank, where he had a shotgun firmly pointed at his backstabbing mortgage broker, Richard Hall. When director Gus Van Sant listened to how Tony spoke, a fire was ignited in him to adapt that story into an offbeat thriller. Of course, such enthusiasm could lead a director into the trap of favoring more of the style over substance. I had my doubts as the film began with a lyrical bang of retro staging and music, but the good news is that the director put just as much thought into this offbeat thriller’s greater themes as he does into perfectly replicating 1970s news footage.

While the Dead Man’s Wire does bounce between a handful of characters, Tony, when played by a perfect-fit Bill Skarsgård, grounds this story with fury and frustration. He brings a focused rage to how he confronts his broker, Richard O. Hall (Dacre Montgomery), with a shotgun in his Indianapolis bank office. Tony’s demands might be simple, with the list including money and an apology, but his plans are intricate enough to maintain some control. He ties a wire from the shotgun to Richard’s neck, ensuring his hostage won’t go far or risk a gunshot to the head. Of course, there will be plenty of talks between Tony and Richard as the hostage situation spills from the bank into the streets, but never anything that makes the two see eye to eye. The class divide is so clear that someone as well-off as Richard must choose his words wisely while Tony holds nothing back for the betrayal he’s endured.

Preventing any simplified character drama is a grander scope for this story that extends beyond the barrel of Tony’s shotgun. While Tony isn’t as keen to speak with Richard, he wouldn’t mind a few words from the thoughtful radio DJ Fred Temple, played by Colman Domingo, with a smooth voice for philosophical nuggets between sublime 70s hits. He certainly doesn’t want to hear much from the flustered Detective Michael Grable (Cary Elwes), but he wouldn’t mind some coverage from the hard-working TV reporter Linda Page (Myha’la). And while Tony won’t get much of an apology from the mostly absent M.L. Hall (Al Pacino), he also won’t get any sympathy from the FBI planning a means of taking a shot when there’s an opening. All of them contribute to making Tony’s declarations of compensation for his economic backstabbing and punishment against the banks a spectacle that turns into a media circus, bringing out the most extreme in those hovering around this hostage situation while also finding just the right offbeat notes.

Although the dialogue meanders here and there, Gus Van Sant maintains a firm grip on style and substance. The mixture of dated news footage and black-and-white photography keeps the film exciting while also underscoring the reality of this true-crime event, bleeding so effortlessly between the archival and the staged. The editing also drives home the thematic focus. One of the most memorable moments features Tony eagerly anticipating becoming a breaking news story to cut off John Wayne’s annoying Oscar speech. As Tony prepares for his press conference, the cutting between Wayne’s speech and his violent Westerns stresses the media’s obsession with violence and how it is rewarded. The divergence from Tony’s perspective also showcases how easy it is to get locked into the obsession. When a question is posed to the news team about what will happen if Tony kills Richard on live television, the answer is easy: pay the broadcast fine and do it without shame, knowing you got a good story out of it.

Dead Man’s Wire features Gus Van Sant at his most refined, with a thrilling 70s crime tale and a robust cast. There’s always something so satisfying about watching any director helm this genre and see how much mastery they can bring to the depiction of a crime. Van Sant doesn’t disappoint. From the tense nature of a car chase to the simmering sensations of a DJ’s careful words, there’s so much cleverness oozing from this retro tale that it feels less like a recreation, nearly surprising with the film’s epilogue of real news footage. The direction echoes the stirring words of Fred Temple as he tantalizes the radio audience with some thoughtful words. For all the praise Fred receives, he admits he lifted a passage from a philosopher, but it still sounds so brilliant when delivered with style.

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