‘Guns & Moses' Review: Rabbi Meets Revolver in an Offbeat and Occasionally Awkward Thriller

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3 days ago

The pistol-packin' padre is not an unknown figure in Westerns — particularly 1960s European 'spaghetti' Westerns — but you'd be hard-pressed to name movies which cast their rabbinical brethren in a similar action-figure mode. 'Guns & Moses' exploits just that novelty as its primary hook, complete with an advertising image of the bearded, fedora-topped hero brandishing firepower over the slogan 'May God and Your Glock Protect You.'
Punning title aside, Salvador Litvak's film promises a serious look at antisemitic violence, inspired by the 2019 shooting (which killed one person and injured three more) at Chabad of Poway Synagogue in San Diego County. Alas, the convoluted screenplay written by the director and spouse Nina Litvak bears little resemblance to that real-world incident, locates the criminal motivation well outside the realm of antisemitism, and somewhat awkwardly attempts to balance straight suspense with a persistent comedic streak.
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The enterprising indie production entertains even as it sends some very mixed messages, not least in a parting direct-camera address during the closing credits, where the Chilean-born writer-director-producer manages to tie together gun advocacy, the October 7 Hamas attacks and a pitch for viewers to promote his project. 'Guns & Moses' can be accused of implausibility, tonal missteps and sporadic heavy-handedness — but you can't say it lacks chutzpah.
Outside a fictitious Southern California town, the High Desert Jewish Center is hosting its annual gala, a deluxe affair gathering leaders of the substantial local Orthodox Jewish population. With Mayor Kirk (Neal McDonough) in attendance, Center founder Rabbi Mo Zaltzman (Mark Feuerstein) introduces the evening's principal honoree: Alan Rosner (Dermot Mulroney), whose vast solar energy farm is the area's biggest industry. He's also this community's biggest benefactor and uses his podium moment to announce a further gift that might give the Center (currently housed in a strip mall) a permanent home. But just then gunshots ring out, throwing the tent-full of high-ticket dinner patrons diving for cover. Amidst general mayhem, only one life is claimed, which raises the question of whether this was an act of indiscriminate antisemitic terrorism or a targeted assassination.
Local law enforcement (notably police detectives played by Zach Villa and Ed Quinn) show no doubt on the matter. They promptly arrest 19-year-old Clay Gibbons (Jackson A. Dunn), whose car was seen speeding from the scene, and who'd previously spewed Holocaust-denying bigotry at community members. Still, he and his father (Jake Busey) claim they were at home together when the shooting occurred. And Rabbi Mo, having already had a tense yet tentatively bridge-building interaction with Clay, thinks the kid is merely a 'troubled teen' whose flirtation with local white power groups wouldn't have led to murder.
That doubt prompts Mo to do some investigating on his own. He soon uncovers no end of complicating intel: of Alan's more ruthless, enemy-generating business practices, which estranged his brother (Michael B. Silver) and ruined the career of an academic ecologist (Paulo Costanzo); his Israeli second wife's (Mercedes Mason) past espionage ties; plus 'Chinatown'-like skullduggery involving government contracts and lucrative land rights.
Other major figures in play include Mo's supportive wife (Alona Tal), the security hire (Gabrielle Ruiz) who convinces them both to spend time at the rifle range, Alan's erstwhile investment partner (Craig Sheffer) and everybody's many children and step-children. Some of these figures find themselves on the wrong end of a bullet's trajectory long before the rabbi, his entire family and a few remaining allies must barricade themselves against a climactic siege — one orchestrated by those they'd assumed could be trusted to uphold the law. By then, it's all too clear that this whole morass is 'not about Jew hatred, it's about money,' as Mo puts it.
That twist might be more shocking if Litvak's script wasn't quite so overloaded with intrigue, or if both dialogue and direction didn't land quite so cumbersomely on lessons to be learned. The single most on-the-nose sequence — though there are many — has an unrestrained Christopher Lloyd as a Holocaust survivor conveniently situated to lecture young Clay about the genocidal reality of his experience.
'Guns & Moses' is technically proficient, with solid contributions from cinematographer Ricardo Jacques Gale and editor Peter Marshall Smithy maintaining a brisk overall pace, as well as reasonable excitement during the few action setpieces. But those sequences are compromised to an extent by Feuerstein's amiable if tension-dispelling insistence on his character's shambling, humorous demeanor. And the climax gets a bit ridick, as it requires we believe an assembly of mostly rank amateurs might successfully overpower pitiless, heavily armed invading paramilitary types.
Such contradictions don't make 'Moses' less enjoyable as a hybrid genre effort selling familiar tropes to an audience that rarely sees itself represented in violent thriller narratives. But they do make it hard to take seriously in the end. The material's comingled yoks and moralizing, family values and flying bullets, melodramatic contrivance and vague ripped-from-headlines relevancy never coalesce into a coherent statement.
It's already asking a lot for viewers to ignore the very knotty political reality the film (which premiered on the festival circuit more than a year ago) is now being released into. That context encompasses all Gaza bloodshed, as well as the way claims of antisemitism have come to be weaponized. Those are matters beyond this movie's purview. But its often oil-and-water-like mix of the sincere and cartoonish nonetheless makes their absence felt.
One factor that does serve to lend a veneer of playful irony to the film's contrary elements is Aaron Gilhuis' original score. Alongside some like-minded tracks by Calexico and other bands, it provides a quasi-old school, rocked-up 'Western' flavor to proceedings before eventually heading toward more conventional thriller terrain.
'God & Moses' opens in limited release on July 18.
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