A man’s soul is in limbo in Marcellus Cox’s latest short, Liquor Bank. Thematically relevant and willing to push boundaries where needed, its real power comes from a place of profound understanding. It being based off a real-life event just adds to its weight. You might remember Cox for Mickey Hardaway, a tense psychological drama with a deeply scarred individual looking for a new lease on life. In many ways, Liquor Bank is the spiritual successor to Cox’s feature-length outing, and it’s a terrific one, especially for those eager to follow his filmography.
We open on Eddie (Antwone Barnes), a lonely ex-Marine cooped up in his house. A musical overture takes command as it guides us through Eddie’s daily routine; only the young man’s clear distress is an immediate cause for concern. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey, he begins chugging the liquor in the bottle, letting the day pass by. In his drunken stupor, he can barely react to his door swinging open and group leader Baker (Sean Alexander James) standing on the other side. This wasn’t just any ordinary day; it was supposed to be Eddie’s 1-year sobriety celebration—an occasion he missed while inebriated.
Liquor Bank is unadulterated and simple filmmaking when you break it down to its fundamentals. It makes great use of Eddie’s cramped house with tight close-ups and handheld shots, giving the short a pleasing naturalistic feel. Eddie has clearly let himself spiral towards the brink, and it’s up to Baker to talk him through it. It’s no easy task, and Cox’s writing makes you feel the impact of every word. Darkness hangs over the two like the sword of Damocles, yet the writer/director’s humanity reels in any over-embellishment. In stories like these, it’s common for the story to take an irreconcilable turn, but here, the fates remain balanced. This is also a testament to the performances of Barnes and James, who are both very well cast in their respective roles. We once again circle back to the short’s endearing humanity, and the two actors are vessels for that terrific quality.
Matching two fantastic actors with sharp direction, Liquor Bank takes a true story and amplifies it with an often forgotten empathy.
