LaRoy, Texas: Review
Ray (John Magaro) isn’t exactly living his best life—he’s broke, his marriage is falling apart, and he’s standing in front of a bar called The Velvet Saddle contemplating an exit strategy. But when he's mistaken for a hitman, Ray’s life takes a turn for the absurd. Tasked with committing murder, Ray, the world’s least qualified assassin, obviously screws everything up, pulling Steve Zahn’s bumbling wannabe detective Skip into the mess with him.
The chemistry between Magaro and Zahn is magnetic. Magaro shines as Ray, a man so beaten down by life he's practically numb, yet somehow you’re rooting for him even when he’s making the dumbest decisions. Zahn, on the other hand, is full of chaotic energy as Skip, a lovable doofus who fancies himself a detective but can’t catch a break. Together, they form a duo of misfits whose friendship is built on shared failure, and their dynamic is the comedic backbone of the film.
Enter Dylan Baker’s Harry, the real hitman, who brings an undercurrent of danger and tension. Baker’s cold, calculated presence stands in stark contrast to Ray’s incompetence and Skip’s slapstick antics. Even his smallest interactions carry an ominous weight, making him a perfect foil for the two leads.
Shane Atkinson’s LaRoy, Texas has the DNA of a Coen brothers’ film with its quirky characters and dark humor, but it carves out its own space with a unique charm. At its core, it’s about self-delusion and misplaced ambition, as Ray stubbornly believes money and status are the keys to solving his problems, even as everything around him falls apart. There’s a lesson buried under all the misadventure: sometimes, you’ve got to stop avoiding the hard truths and confront life head-on, even if it means things get messy.
With sharp wit, ridiculous situations, and a bit of heart, LaRoy, Texas is a wild ride that turns failure into an art form. It's the kind of film where you laugh at how everything unravels, but you can’t help but feel for the characters as they cling to hope amidst the chaos.