From the Dear Film Blog...
...Pearce is the center of this film, imbuing a stoic and seemingly directionless man with the kind of haunted gaze and crackling silences that speak loudly of the dark places in his past in which his mind still dwells. His quest for the car is hardly just about the car, that much is certain, and without ever saying out loud what the truth of his situation is, his demeanor consistently speaks to his state of mind. Something is not right, and it must be put right. The world has lost its sense of right and wrong, and in such a situation a man must cling ever tighter to the sense of what is correct within him. The world is a moral desert, and Pearce will do anything it takes not to die of his thirst for what is right and just.
Pattinson, however, is a true revelation here. His transformation into the disabled Rey is so complete and without pretension that he just about effortlessly disappears in the role. It is easier now for me to recall him as Rey and imagine him in his personal life as Rey than it is for me to picture him as any other character I have ever seen him as. Under his careful modulation Rey turns into a much more conflicted and complicated character than even Pearce’s nameless wanderer.
His mixture of helplessness with sudden flashes of competence makes him unpredictable in action, but not in motivation. Unlike Pearce he is in search of a friend, a companion, anyone he can lean on, and who he can feel as though he is helping. It’s a sweet, nuanced, near-perfect performance.
The direction by David Michôd is equally as compelling as these performances. There is a stillness to his compositions, a certainty in the meaning behind the small moments in between the significant action. When violence breaks out, which it does often, each gunshot has the immediate and jarring impact of a sledgehammer hitting a box of dynamite. You become accustomed to the pervasiveness of the violence, but never inured to its horror. This unflinching stillness, powerful and painful attention to violence, and the oppressive air of some moral drive moving Pearce forwards gives you the air of a horror movie, one that depends on the heart of man to serve as the haunted house...
Full review: http://dearfilm.net/dear-the-rover/
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