The Last Rites of Joe May

Long Synopsis:

Despite all evidence to the contrary, aging short-money hustler Joe May (Dennis Farina) always believed he had a glorious future ahead of him. Now in his sixties, Joe is released from the hospital after a long battle with pneumonia and forced to confront the harsh reality of his legacy: everyone he knew had assumed he was dead, and life had gone on around him without missing a beat. Returning to his old neighborhood in Chicago’s “Patch” district, he finds his car gone, all his worldly possessions pawned by his landlord, and the apartment he’s lived in his entire adult life rented out to a single mother named Jenny and her eight year-old daughter Angelina . After a rough night’s sleep outdoors, Joe reluctantly moves in with the new tenants of his home – at least until he is able to get back on his feet.

Even as Joe doggedly pursues his comeback, he finds the odds stacked drastically against him. He gets no respect from his old supplier, his best friend and partner in crime has moved into an assisted living facility, and even Joe’s prized pigeon coops have fallen into disrepair. Throughout this ordeal, Joe’s one lifeline is his burgeoning friendship with his co-tenants. So when things turn ugly between Jenny and her boyfriend – a crooked detective with a penchant for domestic violence – Joe is determined to take a stand for his unlikely new family, and perhaps take one last shot at redefining his legacy.

 

DIRECTOR’S STATEMENT FROM JOE MAGGIO

I can’t say specifically what inspired THE LAST RITES OF JOE MAY, but that being said, there are three things I know for sure.

First, I began thinking somewhat vaguely about a Joe May kind of character shortly after breaking up with a girl who, in one especially painful moment of the whole extrication process, announced quite coolly and confidently that I would very likely die a broken and lonely old man. This was nearly twenty years prior to writing the screenplay for THE LAST RITES OF JOE MAY, but her words stuck with me, imbedded somewhere in my prefrontal cortex, and over the years I would have many painful imaginings about how her awful prophecy might one day come true, quite a few of which made it onto the screen in Joe’s words and deeds.

I am also a big Vittorio De Sica fan and I began writing more specific notes for THE LAST RITES OF JOE MAY shortly after seeing UMBERTO D for the first time. I’d already made three feature films, but was struggling mightily to pay the rent and keep myself fed. The hero of De Sica’s film had worked hard his entire life and now, in his retirement, when all he wanted was a warm place to sleep, a little food for himself and his dog, and perhaps a kind word now and then from an old acquaintance – somehow, even this was too much to ask for. During long bouts of self-pity, locked away in my apartment, skillfully avoiding the landlord, I found myself thinking of poor Umberto and how, like him, I seemed thoroughly ill-equipped to survive, let alone succeed.

Finally, and at the risk of confessing too much publicly, there is quite a lot of my maternal grandfather and his sons in Joe May. He exhibits the endless optimism in the face of overwhelming odds, the swagger, a few sartorial touches, and most importantly the strict adherence to a code of conduct which, just a generation ago, outlined in precise terms what it meant to be a man. You always pay your debts. You never let anyone know when you’re down and out and no matter how bad things get you keep your shoes shined, your pants pressed and your hair trimmed. If you can’t afford to leave a tip, don’t go into the bar. You wait your turn, with patience and fortitude, because better days will come, eventually. Joe’s trouble isn’t that he fails to live up to this code, it’s that the world has changed to such a degree that in obeying these rules Joe is, in a sense, holding devalued currency. In this way I suppose THE LAST RITES OF JOE MAY is an effort to redeem those men and their ideals, flawed though they may be. And Joe May is nothing if not flawed. I hope that you love him anyway.

 

 

INTERVIEW WITH DENNIS FARINA

Dennis Farina has seen his share of “Joe Mays” in his life, especially growing up in Chicago. These are the kind of guys who bounce around the neighborhood, always looking for a new hustle, always a move away from hitting the big time. And almost always, they wind up cold and broke, which is exactly where Joe Maggio’s THE LAST RITES OF JOE MAY begins.

The film opens as Joe May is coming off a bout of pneumonia that had him hospitalized for a couple months, and left the neighborhood thinking he was dead. In two months, Joe May lost his car, his apartment and most of all, his way. But guys like Joe May are always “looking for the angle,” as Farina says. So Joe May puts on his tan leather jacket, and begins working the streets. For all his efforts to keep up appearances— the big tip at the bar, the rented limousine, the more Joe realizes his life has passed him by. His fellow hustler friend is in a retirement home. His “pet” pigeons have flown their coop. The only gig Joe can find is unloading a 50lb side of grass-fed beef, which proves a lot tougher than unloading “fugazi” watches and electronics.

Joe May gets an unlikely and unconventional shot at redemption when he meets the new tenants living in his apartment. A wayward single mother and her precocious daughter enlighten him to a small bedroom and a last chance at greatness.

Farina embodies Joe May with all the humor and vitality from his best known tough-guy roles in films like GET SHORTY, SNATCH and OUT OF SIGHT, within a character who is struggling to hold on to something that has long passed him by. With each new angle he tries to pursue, Joe May’s cracks begin to show. In a performance that is both raw and vulnerable, Farina isn’t afraid to come out swinging and fall down and get back up swinging and fall down again. It’s a film and a character that keeps you guessing, because as Farina says, “Joe May is a survivor.”

How did you get involved with this film?

I have a little company called, You’re Faded Films. Bill Straus brought the project to Stephanie Striegel who was working for us. When they showed it to me—I liked it immediately. It was originally set in New York, but I said, “Geez, I’d really like to do a picture in Chicago, I haven’t worked there in a while. Is there any way we can move the location from NY to Chicago?” So we sat down with Joe and talked about it—he came to Chicago, looked over the neighborhoods, got some location people to take him around the city, picked out some neighborhoods to work in, and it all worked out. My biggest concern, believe it or not, it’s a small thing, but I wasn’t aware of how many pigeon coops were in Chicago... because pigeon coops are normally associated with the east coast—and that’s the only thing I’m concerned about—do we have pigeon coops. Though it’s illegal to have pigeon coops in Chicago—there are indeed a lot of them. So that was what I thought was going to be a concern, and was not.

Your character is so well defined, and the story just starts to slowly reveal itself. Can you talk about why you wanted to take on a character like this?

For me, it was all in the writing and in the circumstances. I think a lot of people through their lifetimes have met guys like Joe May. Guys who are just kind of surviving and always looking for that one big score, or that one big idea that they’re going to have, that’s going to catch on and going to make them a lot of money. Joe’s a survivor, is what he is, in his world... That’s always been interesting to me because I’ve known people like that all of my life. When I was a kid, there were a million guys where I came from that had a watch, a radio, raincoats, gloves, anything you wanted and they felt that if they made $20 or $30 dollars a day, they were getting one over, and they went marching to the tune of the convention that they were surviving. I he was an interesting guy.

There’s definitely a status thing with him—he’s keeping up appearances.

I think he’s very image conscious, that’s for sure. He’s had this horrible bout in the hospital and he comes up, but everything is stripped away from him. But I think he’ll be damned if he’s not going to leave a $30 tip on a $10 dollar cab. He wants to keep that image up—not only for himself, but for everyone around him. He is BS’ing everybody, is what he’s doing. He needs that. He holds on to that, because if he gives that up, I think it’s over for him. He can’t be Joe May any longer. He’s a fish out of water, is what he is.

Even though he’s a pretty virile guy, he’s viewed as a cast off. If he wanted to, he could have an affair with Jenny.

We went round and round about it. We thought about that, we discussed it and thought, does he really do this? And I think what our conclusion was, is that no matter what he is, or what people think he is, he fancies himself as a gentleman, and he doesn’t think it would be proper for him to be sleeping with this woman in the same apartment with her little girl. He wouldn’t cross that line.

It’s sort of a story about redemption in some ways too—in terms of the relationship he has with his own son. He redeems himself a bit by helping Jenny and her daughter out.

I think it starts out from simply selfish motives—he can live there and it’s only going to cost him so much—he feels he can always hustle that kind of money. But then I think it evolves into something else. I think for him it evolves into a noble gesture. And I think part of that noble gesture is not to get involved with Jenny.

Talk about his relationship with Jenny’s daughter, Angelina. It’s such a great dynamic—he’s showing her the ropes in such an unconventional way.

I think maybe he’s trying to recapture what he should have done, or maybe what he wanted to do with his own kid. Maybe if he would have said and done the same things with his own kid as he’s saying and doing with Jenny’s daughter, things would have been a little different for him. But I think what happened, was that the selfish part of him became such a problem, because he thought as long as he brought home enough money to pay the rent and kept his wife happy, it’d be ok. And to do that—he was out doing whatever he wanted to do. He lived the life he wanted to lead at the expense of the relationship with his wife and child. And now maybe finally, he may say, well—with this little girl, I’m going to teach her what life is. Some of it is very harsh, rude and crude—he tells you, “One day you wake up you’re going to be in a crapper.” I don’t know if that’s the right thing to be telling a little girl. But however, it’s his way of being as brutally honest as he can, in a way protecting her and teaching her of what’s to come in life. I mean, he definitely has his own way of doing things, and not all of them are right.

I loved him carrying around the grass fed beef around Chicago.

He’s surprised when he goes to get it because he’s thinking, well, I was always good with electronics, I can sell you watches and things like that, but what am I going to do with this 40-50lb piece of meat. I think that’s when his world takes a bit of a turn. He realizes he’s out of his element—if this is what he’s got to do, and then maybe it’s all over for him.

His friend, old partner in crime, is in a senior citizens home and has resigned himself to living out his life there. But your character isn’t ready for that.

I think Chelcie Ross’ character, Billy, realized—and maybe in a kind of perverted way— that, “Wait a minute, I could probably live in a senior citizens home, have the government pay for it, maybe get some social security or disability, pick up a couple bucks a day playing chess with these guys, and be warm in the winter.” He’s not out hustling any more. Maybe his intentions weren’t the purest, but they certainly suited his needs. Joe May hasn’t made that turn—he figures that’s for suckers. That’s why he asks “What do you have going on in there?”—because he’s thinking that there’s something going on in there that he can try and get in on. Joe’s convinced he has to have something going on at the senior home. He can’t accept what Billy did. He just can’t accept that. I know guys like that too. Right or wrong, those are their convictions. They’re always looking for an angle.

The relationship between Gary’s character and yours is great too, because you have to show him a sign of respect, and there’s probably a part of your character that wants to punch him.

I think he does, again, I think it’s the era that he’s living in now as opposed to the era he was brought up in. He keeps on, “You’re father and I, you’re father and I”—well those were different eras. And things have changed, even in that world they’ve changed—everything has changed except for Joe May.

Right, which is the case I think, for a lot of people when you hit a point in your life.

I can tell you, I’m 68, yeah—there are a lot of things going on that I just don’t understand. And it’s funny, I think maybe when you’re Joe May, your world just get smaller and smaller— and you keep gravitating to people who think like you, or are like you because you don’t understand, or can’t accept what else is going on in the world.

There’s that great moment that Gary Cole has at the end—he can’t believe it was Joe May that did this.

I don’t know if Joe was thinking that at the time. But if he’s always playing the angles, he may have gotten it in his head, that when they see this, they’re not going to believe that I did this and that I trumped everybody.

You root for him in the end; you want to see him win.

Well, in his world I think he won. That’s his redemption. That he saved this little girl. And her mother—he got them way from there. And he got his revenge. And at the end he’s the headliner.

Talk about working on the film—how long was the shoot, and how did you get it made?

We did it in about four weeks and we got it made because we pitched it to certain people over at Steppenwolf Films and they wanted to get into movie making and thought this might be in their wheelhouse. We started talking to them, and the rest came from private financing.

It’s funny that they’re involved, because it almost has the tone of a really great play, and the relationships are so intimate.

The film is kind of gritty, and Steppenwolf is kind of famous for gritty new kind of stuff. It was right in their wheelhouse and they were great. They’re wonderful people, and they couldn’t have been any nicer.

Talk about Joe Maggio as a filmmaker. What does he bring?

Well, I’d never worked with him before but I’d watched a couple of his movies. But when I met him, he came to Chicago, we hit it off immediately. We had, I would say 95% of the same ideas and the same attitude towards the character. We were pretty much on track the whole time. I can’t remember any real specific areas where we disagreed entirely. I think one area was the phone call that I make to the police station; we did it a bunch of different ways, but that was the only area that I kind of remember where we have a different idea of where we wanted to approach it. The rest of it, we were pretty much on board from the beginning.

Did you work on the script at all with Joe Maggio?

Joe and I, by necessity, had to change some stuff because of the location change. And then, he and I talked about local talk—how Chicagoans would talk as opposed to New Yorkers. And there were a couple of other references to neighborhoods, how you tell the streets downtown, that kind of language.

Talk about the cast.

Jamie was just wonderful. My pal, Gary Cole, we asked him to come in and do a couple of days and he was very accommodating. Chelcie has been an actor for years and years, around the Chicago area, and in many movies—he’s great.

You guys have made a film of something reminiscent of the 1970s movies, a character driven— unexpected story.

Joe had mentioned to me, he said, keep in mind the movie The Friends of Eddie Coyle, a Robert Mitchum movie—one of my favorite movies. It’s not the same character, but it’s the same world. And he wanted to keep that in mind. He wanted to have that in his head as a director, and I was very familiar with the picture, so I understood what he was talking about.

It must be a personal thrill to bring this film to Chicago.

Oh yeah, it was great, I still live in Chicago and it was fun to be in some of the old neighborhoods that I knew as a child and from working around there. We hope to bring more there. Joe and I are talking about doing another movie with Stephanie Streigel and Jay Silver, and also doing that in Chicago. We hope we can pull that one off too. It’s the best big city in the world. Of course I’m a little prejudice, but I love it.

What do you hope audiences draw from this film when they see it?

Well, we always, from the beginning, wanted it to be entertaining. It’s a rather serious movie, but there are some funny parts even though he doesn’t want to be funny. Those are the funniest guys, the guys who take themselves so seriously. I want audiences to be entertained, for an hour and a half, you can go and be entertained and get a message across, if there is a message, I don’t know that there is. I think the message is to Joe May, that his redemption is that he saved Jenny and little girl and sent them on their way.

PRESS RELEASE DOWNLOAD Last_Rites_of_Joe_May_Press_Notes_10.4.11   ABOUT STEPPENWOLF FILMS Steppenwolf Films was created to develop and produce independent feature films and unique television projects generated by and often with the acclaimed Steppenwolf Theatre Company Ensemble and its artistic associates. Founded by Tim Evans, Terry Kinney, Jeff Perry and Gary Sinise – Steppenwolf Films presents opportunities for the world-renowned Steppenwolf name to bring its powerful artistic vision to the screen. Driven by the Ensemble’s intense acting style and passion for storytelling, Steppenwolf Films will use the company’s collaborative spirit and artistic excellence to deliver distinctive films to wider audiences. Like Steppenwolf Theatre Company’s groundbreaking work on stage, Steppenwolf Films seeks to redefine the notion of screen collaboration and ensemble films. "Steppenwolf Films is proud to be a part of The Last Rites of Joe May. Our involvement stems, as always, from direct relationships with writers, actors, directors and like-minded producers. When we first read the script for Joe May, which was brought to us by producers Bill Straus and Stephanie Striegel, we were struck by the character-driven strength of the writing, the ensemble acting potential of the project and the prospect of filming in Chicago. Importantly, with the great Dennis Farina attached as Joe May, there seemed to be a natural aligning of the "stars." Dennis' first stage acting occurred at the Steppenwolf Theatre Company in the mid-1980's and his association with the theatre and its members has spanned three decades. Given the opportunities to work again with Dennis, assemble a strong Chicago cast of actors (many of whom have worked on the Steppenwolf stage) and help bring to life a beautiful script written and directed by Joe Maggio, we enthusiastically pursued this intense and illuminating story of an outsider, a guy on the fringe, who seeks a chance at redemption - a common theme in so many Steppenwolf endeavors." -Tim Evans, Terry Kinney, Jeff Perry and Gary Sinise Steppenwolf Films