Cosmo Jarvis is a once in a lifetime talent. “Even the worst of men have a little bit of good inside that will be their undoing.”
This is a movie about what it means to surrender: to god, to an abuser, to a victim, to a bully, to a mistake, to an addiction, to a cycle, and perhaps even to hope. We’re taken through countless instances of surrender and asked at each turn to judge the outcome. When shepherd holds his neck out through the food slot, and later turns his back to the audience, removing the chain he once clung to as he was molested, bracing for judgment, his surrender is his undoing. The three main characters are in a revolving door of redemption, orbiting around one another as they wrestle with their pasts.
Shepard says during one sermon: “No matter where you are, will always be some kind of prison.”
As the revolving door slows down, each of the three horsemen are spit into their respective prisons.
To Mel, prison is the outside world.
To Warren, prison is losing the relationship with his son.
To Shepard, prison is a lack of redemption.
By the end, Mel is released, Warren is in prison with little to no chances of reconciliation with his son, and Shepard is ablaze for eternity, both literally and figuratively.
But, conversely, Mel has a chance at normal life again, Warren has a quasi parental relationship with a de facto son in Mel, and Shepard is relieved of a life that has known nothing but violence. The audience is left to question whether or not there’s a peace in these surrenders.
