The Samaritan: Starring Samuel L. Jackson
As Foley, the weary grifter at the heart of the Canadian import “The Samaritan,” Samuel L. Jackson can’t catch a break. Paroled after a 25-year stretch for killing his partner in crime and newly blessed with a deeper philosophy of life, Foley plans to keep his head down and his shoes clean. Then said partner’s twitchy son (Luke Kirby) shows up, requesting assistance with a new con. Will Foley trust him? More important, when will directors cease trusting a well-known star to salvage a threadbare film? Putting his shoulder to the wheel, Mr. Jackson pushes the lugubrious plot uphill with sporting deliberation. His doleful revenant is in almost every scene, and this hardworking actor seems to know that the film around him should be a light-footed caper instead of a grim noir with a side order of deviance.
But the director and co-writer, David Weaver, disagrees: promising, per the publicity notes, to “pump new blood into a familiar genre,” he can’t even elucidate the crucial details of the central swindle: the “Samaritan” of the title.
The other actors are equally betrayed by a screenplay completely lacking in credibility. Tom Wilkinson’s fastidious, wine-loving mark is underwritten and underseen, while the gorgeous Ruth Negga never convinces as either a drug addict (those plump arms and glowing cheeks!) or — given their clear age difference — Foley’s love interest. Though perhaps in Toronto, where the film was shot, women as stunning as Ms. Negga regularly hang around sleazy bars hitting on ex-cons. I really wouldn’t know.
