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Every episode of Tasteless, I take a critically acclaimed film and compare it to one that shares the same themes but didn't get the attention it deserves — and explain why that second movie is my pick. This week: two films about feeling trapped and the resulting rage. It's Eastern Promises versus Fresh Kills. I love Eastern Promises, but Fresh Kills genuinely had me looking at other films in a new light. I think Jennifer Esposito with Fresh Kills has changed the game and reinvigorated a genre that for me didn't feel particularly relevant — and now it does.
EASTERN PROMISES
A teenager who dies during childbirth leaves clues in her journal that could tie her child to a rape involving a violent Russian mob family.
This movie came out in 2007. It has an 89% on Rotten Tomatoes. It was nominated for an Oscar for Viggo Mortensen's performance.
Viggo is really so fantastic in it. He is an actor who commits himself fully to a role. People know him as Aragorn, but it's a testament to his acting that he sinks so much into every character he takes on. I don't watch this and think it's Aragorn with a Russian accent. He does wildly different things in each film, although he does try to get horses in there. No horses in Eastern Promises, shockingly. I feel like if someone is trying to get him to sign onto a movie, they should just promise him he can be friends with a horse and he might sign up.
I also find in his work he often uplifts women. In his recent film The Dead Don't Hurt, which he wrote and directed and scored and acted in, he was very purposeful in his press tour to discuss the leading lady, Vicky Krieps, and how the story was her story, centering her, putting all his talent behind her support. He needs to promise us he's a cool guy. He does fight scenes, he has tattoos, he has a cool air about him. He knows about motorcycles. But he's working in many ways in service of Naomi Watts, as well as the young woman whose journal begins our story.
I unsurprisingly first watched this film when I was going through Naomi Watts's filmography. That is often how I find a film — I'm a fan of an actor and work my way out from there. Naomi Watts is a Tasteless favorite, an actress who I find to be one of the most in touch with humanity, with conveying authentic emotion on film. She can play such an everywoman without it feeling like she's cosplaying.
I love Naomi Watts trying to follow left-behind info on a dead young woman who suffered tragedy. That is of course both the plot of Eastern Promises and The Ring — another fantastic film. She's great as a detective-type character because she brings a real curiosity to her roles. She's also British in this, which is fun, and she is annoyed, which is double fun.
She wants to do right by a girl who died in her maternity ward, but it's not all selfless. She takes this girl's journal to learn about her because she herself wants to find closure for the dead woman's newborn daughter. And as a midwife, Naomi's character is comfortable with blood, with hard choices, with having someone's life in her hands. It's an interesting contrast to the life Viggo leads — similar comfort levels, very different origins.
You see director David Cronenberg's influence in the baby being born, the umbilical cord being clamped — so much viscera. And you see Cronenberg's touch in the naked knife fight that Viggo Mortensen partakes in. Cronenberg is clearly fascinated with the human form, all its angles. The fight scene is brutal and interesting. Viggo Mortensen, of the gorgeous-long-hair Aragorn fame, heartthrob to many, is fully naked. And yet this fight scene — this nudity is in no way lascivious. There's not a sexuality to it at all, but instead a brute force. He's caught in his most vulnerable and gives everything he has to survive. Very interestingly done.
We have so many movies about the Italian mafia, especially set in New York. So it's interesting to see this Russian mafia in London — to see what's the same and what's different in the tropes of the genre. I love a mob boss who lures you in with kindness. Armin Mueller-Stahl as Semyon, who we eventually discover has done horrible things, knows how to turn on the charm when it suits him. So much more interesting, so much more sinister — that he knows how to behave with Naomi so as not to arouse suspicion. He engages in her detective work and helps her to serve his own purposes.
Tatiana Maslany, one of the greatest working actresses of Orphan Black fame, does Tatiana's voice in the journal scenes — this girl whose death has brought all these characters together. While Sarah-Jeanne Labrosse plays Tatiana physically, the narration of this journal brings her story to the forefront and makes it ever-present in the minds of everyone pulled into this scandal.
Fresh Kills
Follows the story of the loyal women of an organized crime family that dominated some of the boroughs of New York City in the late 20th century.
This movie came out in 2024. It has a 91% on Rotten Tomatoes from critics and a 96% with audiences.
I need this movie to get an Oscar nomination. On this show I have covered The Godfather, The Godfather Part II, Goodfellas, Casino, Reservoir Dogs, Scarface. It is a genre that is easy pickings for this show, where I am so often uplifting a film starring or made by women versus critically acclaimed films that are almost always from a very masculine point of view. So for Jennifer Esposito to take this classic genre and flip it in such a way that its hook is also kind of the least important part — that's very impressive.
Fresh Kills is a mafia movie. It falls in this world, uses its trappings. But it's so much more than that. These women are so much more than that. When I think of the iconic women of past mob movies, I never think of them in those roles. Lorraine Bracco brings to mind the matriarch of the Rizzoli family in Rizzoli & Isles. Michelle Pfeiffer is Catwoman or Cool Rider before I'd think of Elvira in Scarface. For Sharon Stone in Casino, I would first think Basic Instinct or The Quick and the Dead — films where she has agency, much more so than in Casino.
Esposito's film isn't an answer to mob movies. It's not made in an attempt to subvert the genre as far as I can tell. It's simply a story she had in her that was worth telling, and it falls in this world that she knows, that she saw growing up. So it's very honest. Jennifer wrote and directed this film and there is such presence and care in every shot, in every moment, in every song choice.
No character in this film is a saint. The women aren't good simply because they're women. The characters are flawed, they're chaotic. This movie is living and breathing. You feel Rose's claustrophobia just as you feel this almost oppressive level of acceptance and yes-man energy from Connie — how much Connie needs everything to be okay, needs her father, who is clearly very involved in organized crime, to be a good man. She needs it to be okay what he's doing.
I'm not going to spoil the end of this film because it's actually very important to me that you go buy this film digitally — on Apple, Amazon, all the places you get movies. It's so worth it to support this film, and it's putting your money where your mouth is. Do you want more film from independent filmmakers without an agenda besides telling an interesting story? Films from people who are passionate about film? Jennifer mortgaged her house to make this movie.
I had the distinct pleasure of speaking with her a couple years ago on the show and it was one of my favorite conversations I've ever had, because she is such a storyteller and believes so much in the importance of art. The way she's engaged with fans and viewers has been really wonderful to see because it's so authentic, and that comes across in Fresh Kills.
Emily Bader as Rose LaRusso is a revelation. I don't know I've ever seen a role like this, and I certainly haven't seen one played this well. Rose is passive, she doesn't talk much, she observes — and you see the wheels turning in her mind. That could be so boring in a lesser film. But following along with her, we are a fly on the wall of the LaRusso family.
We first see Rose younger, played by Anastasia Veronica Lee. She's more cautious than her outgoing sister, but loves just as fiercely as Connie does. Jennifer Esposito as their mother Francine is a really perfect role for her — one that allows her to be felt throughout the film as this sort of ghost of obligation and in some ways of safety, but who doesn't overpower the younger actors.
I really loved a scene early in the film where Francine invites young Rose into the bathroom with her as she does her makeup. She creates a sanctuary for Rose, but in that sanctuary there is ownership — the implicit understanding that you are like me, we are a team. As Connie stays loyal to their father and questions why the women have been in the bathroom so long, Francine forms her own alliance with Rose. She tells Rose at one point, you know your mother's your best friend, right? to try to get some info out of her. And it's sweet and it's sad. You feel such true love but also the grasping, the desperation to feel understood on all sides.
One of the most fascinating elements of this film is that as we see Rose's story, we see the traditional mafia story through the windows, out the garage, around the corner. In glances and hushed words, we see and hear the elements that would be The Godfather or Goodfellas. The men go off to have their secret talks and instead of the camera following them, we stay behind — to deal with the aftermath, with those who are left, the women who wait for these men to come home safely.
In some strange ways, the father Joe is even more sympathetic. We don't see his dirty dealings. We see him cloaked in shadow. We see that he loves his family and we know he's doing what he thinks he needs to do to keep them safe. But perhaps the most heartbreaking scene — besides some more spoilery beats — is when Joe tells the true version of a story Francine had been telling for years. Francine talks to her daughters about how she was almost a model, how a recruiter gave her his card, what could have been. Hope is so important when you are living on a trash heap. The idea that you could have something better, that someone saw value in you — that means so much. And Joe rips that hope away, laughs about how the talent guy told every girl in town they could be a model and took their money. Joe humiliates Francine and you see her grit through it. Not make a scene, but you can see that it affects her.
This movie has done so much in silence. Its most agonizing moments are conveyed through glances and pursed lips. Joe makes her feel small. Women in these stories are so often made small. They have a single purpose — bring in a lasagna or scream about how they're being cheated on. But not this family. And we see Emily Bader as Rose seeing this — seeing her mother's discomfort, looking around and wondering why no one else notices, why they're continuing to laugh and carry on.
Rose's penchant for observation could be slow in a way that would turn me off, but instead it elevates the film to another level. And Emily Bader as Rose, especially opposite the vivacious Odessa A'zion as Connie — a character who wants too much and isn't afraid to take it, but who also needs a path laid out for her, for whom choice is anathema — Rose feels trapped while Connie thrives on orders and loyalty.
When their father gives them a bakery to run together, it is a gift but also a burden. It keeps Rose in place even as it gives Connie new purpose. The greatest heartbreak for Connie is that she's so happy to take the life her father laid out, but he's given the same path to their cousin Ali — played by Nicholas Cirillo — because he's a man. He's given what Connie feels she earned through being Joe's child. If it's simply given to Ali, then what has Connie done to deserve it?
My one negative about this film? Two barfs. Two barfs happen. A barf in a film is my kryptonite, but not in a way where someone says "kryptonite" and it's like cake — that their kryptonite is cake because they want to eat it. It's in a classic Superman way of I might die because I saw two barfs.
This film has made me think about storytelling differently. How much can be left unsaid and still convey such strong emotion.
Shared Themes
Eastern Promises and Fresh Kills are ultimately about feeling trapped. Each character is beholden to a certain set of rules, to a life they did not want, and there is such powerful storytelling tension as we wonder if they can escape and on whose terms.
In Eastern Promises, Viggo as a gang enforcer — the cleaner — is forced to follow along behind his boss's son and clean up his messes. A man who's clearly not as cruel as his line of work implies. He shares with Naomi: I am driver. I go left, I go right, I go straight ahead. That's it. Of course things aren't that simple, his job is much more elaborate. But it's the way he should think about his job — follow orders, don't go outside the lines, stay alive. But Naomi makes him question this, put himself in danger. We also learn he's an undercover agent — a job where you work for the government, again following someone else's orders. His life is not his own on many levels. He's even branded, getting the star tattoo of the gang he's joined, permanently marking himself as a follower.
Young Tatiana had nowhere to go. In an attempt to make money singing, she wound up as a sex worker for this Russian gang. She journals and hopes for something more, but her life isn't her own. She's pregnant at her death and Naomi saves that baby, searching frantically for a family. She thinks the baby would be better off with Tatiana's relatives — staying within the bloodline — a goal that once again elicits the idea of being trapped in the cyclical nature of life. But Viggo comments the baby would be much better off in London with Naomi.
In Fresh Kills, Rose is stuck. She's trapped by her family's expectations, by the world's expectations. As a young girl, we see how she wants to play with makeup for her mom, but that's clearly frowned upon. While Connie attempts to live more like the boys of the family, that's also frowned upon. Each is stuck in an identity they didn't ask for.
Rose is given a bakery to work at — not something she ever showed interest in. She's told to marry a man, a man who is fine, but there's no light in her eyes when she sees him. She'll get a free house from her dad, but it's another piece he'll always have over her. Every step she takes as an adult that further entangles with him is in some way an endorsement of his behavior, his crimes. And she wonders what's wrong with her that she doesn't want this life that Connie fights for, that Francine pretends to love.
An element I really adored — the bits we see on television screens. Rose watches Sally Jessy Raphael and sees it as an escape. At commercial breaks, there are ads for beauty schools. She ponders being a beautician or entering a guest-hosting gig for Sally Jessy. Even her pipe dreams are influenced by her environment, by what her mother puts on the TV. The one time she sets out to do something for herself and auditions for Sally Jessy, it's thwarted by her family name — a name she has just shared with the casting person, a name then blasted across the TV as the name of a criminal. The TV giveth and the TV taketh away.
The other piece of the puzzle is ownership and the way that ownership leads to a sort of impotent rage in our main characters.
In Eastern Promises, Viggo has two masters — the gang he's undercover with and the government he's secretly working for. He's branded by both. You see his rage seething under the surface of his controlled image. He's taking orders for greater purpose, but that doesn't keep it from frustrating him. As his character says: Anger is very dangerous. It makes people do stupid things. Anger is maybe one of our most destructive emotions. No one has ever done anything out of anger and then thought, yeah, that was a great choice.
Naomi's rage is so clear. She wants justice for this girl, but what is she to do in the face of a gang? When her uncle says something abhorrent, she storms out. She's not going to fight her uncle. She just has to leave. But you feel that energy, that thrumming in her. She doesn't know what to do with it, so she has to remove herself.
Fresh Kills further begs the question: when is anger acceptable? I think some people would say in women, never. Anyone surprised by the violence of this film — surprised that women feel emotions as strongly as men and that there's an outlet other than tears — is in for a real surprise in the real world.
What's heartbreaking is that all the rage in the world, all the passion, doesn't extricate Rose from the life she was born into. She is owned by her last name, by her family's expectations, by her desire to be loved by them in the way they love those who stay in line. When Rose finally blows up at her father, it doesn't get her anything. It's an outlet, something that drives her to make choices she needs to make, but it's not going to change him. It's not going to change the business.
Does anger ever really lead to the outcome we want? I don't know that female rage is taken seriously in the same way, because women's rage is not palatable. It doesn't lead to fun fight scenes or quests for vengeance — not usually. And there's a toxicity to the LaRusso women that is magnetizing and it is scary.
When Francine screams at Rose for saying she doesn't want children, she's speaking to her own hurt, her own grief — takes it out on Rose, who is so used to having things taken out on her. That Rose continues to express herself at all is a miracle. When Connie screams about how she and their dad are Rose's people, she shouldn't be looking for validation outside — it's sad because Connie needs to believe it. She can't have her world turned upside down.
Anger keeps us in line in some ways. These women try to put on the face expected of them, so their anger builds and builds until it explodes at inopportune times at the wrong people. No one can get mad at Joe, the breadwinner, the man of the house, so they get mad at each other. Connie is furious with Rose for not being loyal enough to their father instead of being mad at the father who has let them down. It's easier to be mad at a person who you think will always be there for you than at a known quantity.
What Fresh Kills Does Better
Eastern Promises has heroes and villains, people who must do the right thing and for whom doing the right thing is an easy choice. Fresh Kills shows us a protagonist who doesn't have an external force driving her. No one is coming to save her. There's no magic fix. No clear-cut delineations of right and wrong. She must motivate herself wholly from within. It's so honest in its simplicity and the lack of a black-and-white binary.
In Eastern Promises, Viggo is confident, in control. He plays everyone. Even as he wins over the mob boss, he has his own agenda. Every move is calculated. He has goals outside of this — he hasn't fallen into gang life, he's there with a very clear purpose. So he can stay disaffected, think of himself as someone other than the man who cleans up dead bodies. He has a freedom that Rose in Fresh Kills doesn't have, even though he is confined within the boundaries of organized crime.
Naomi Watts barrels headfirst into gang business. Everyone is so nice to her. They're like, we won't kill you for this journal. We'll make you borscht. She is righteous in her belief that this baby needs to be connected with its family. We know she'll survive because she's the hero, the beautiful blonde seeking justice who cares about the baby, who can convert Viggo Mortensen to a life of good. She implores him to read the journals and he listens. It's an idealized world. It's a fun world. Great crime flick.
But while Eastern Promises is a story of seekers, Fresh Kills is the story of an observer. And the way Rose's tale is carried out is a sort of storytelling I don't think I've ever seen done so effectively. There's no behind-the-scenes string-pulling. We don't know for a fact things will go away. We can't anticipate the life she'll live because her life is grounded in reality.
Another lesser version of this film would have had her be the new host of Sally Jessy Raphael. There's a movie I love, Drop Dead Gorgeous, where Kirsten Dunst wants to be a broadcaster and she's at a crime scene when the anchor gets shot and she pops up and takes over the reporting. Dark comedy, done very well. But how often in any genre do our characters not quite get what they want without it being a totally depressing movie made for the purpose of making you sad? The world of Fresh Kills doesn't feel hollow in any of its sad moments. It's not overdone. It's simply reality.
No one comes down and says, Rose, I believe in you, here's a path to another life, here's a job as a beautician. Nothing is handed to her. The only path set out is the one of her family, the one she's desperate to escape. She has to figure things out on her own. No magical mentor. We can wait around for an answer to be dropped in our laps, but sometimes we just have to move forward to try something knowing we might fail. And Rose is so brave in that she's ready to do that.
In Eastern Promises, Viggo is not simply a Russian mob member. He's elite. He's the best. He scoffs in the face of danger. He can fix motorcycles. And he's a secret agent. He's special. So many movies are about people who are special.
An element of Fresh Kills that was so brilliant is that this family is ordinary. Rose is ordinary. In Eastern Promises, we know that although other people own Viggo, he has the self-confidence and ability to stay on top. When he is attacked naked in a bathhouse, he beats up knife dudes while his junk is flopping around. You know he's the best. You know he'll save Naomi, avenge Tatiana. Everything falls so perfectly into place. Everything is meant to be.
In Fresh Kills, Rose isn't special. Her sister's more rambunctious, gets more attention, but still gets beat up when it comes down to it. Her father heads up a crime organization but gets caught. Her mother is beautiful and vivacious but there's a deep well of sadness there. No one finds out they're a boy wizard or a superhero. These people play the roles they've been assigned and tell themselves it makes them happy.
Even Rose's big moment of choosing violence — picking up a bottle to smash an attacker over the head — that's still not enough for her sister. It's not a magic heroic moment. It's too little, too late. It's not a victory. It's just an end to that particular bout of fighting. There's no glamour in these trappings of the mafia. Rose isn't suddenly an informant or a saint. She chooses for herself when she can and she tries to survive.
Go buy Fresh Kills. Watch it, tell someone to watch it, review it. These things matter for films like this. It's available on Apple TV, Amazon, and everywhere you get movies.
Hit me up at @tastelesspod on social media — only once you've watched it. Then we will talk about it. Emily Bader — ugh, so good. Whole cast is incredible.
