HENRY JOHNSON - Mark Reviews Movies

Henry Johnson, 1993

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Review by Mark Dujsik | May 8, 2025

There really is nothing quite like the dialogue of David Mamet, who forms a particular rhythm of rapid back-and-forths, lengthy speeches, and even each and every vocalized pause and stammer of his characters. Henry Johnson, the playwright-turned-filmmaker's first directorial effort in 17 years, revolves entirely around how its characters talk, what they say, and, especially, what its eponymous character doesn't have the power or confidence to speak. A simple "no" at any given point in this story would suffice to prevent all of the problems Henry Johnson (Evan Jonigkeit) faces, but that's not the kind of person he is.

That could make this tale a tragedy, but in Mamet's cynical mind, it's more a comedy. Henry is pretty much doomed before we meet him, in the way of the fated protagonists of Greek tragedy, really, whose lives are in the hands of machinations beyond their control and just barely within the grasp of their comprehension. Henry did a bad thing to help a bad, bad person, but unlike some ancient king prophesized to fulfill some cruel act without his knowledge or woman cursed with foresight, Henry knows exactly what he's doing.

A lot of people tell him, in fact, not to do those things, but Henry keeps doing them regardless. Is that his fault, for being too weak and naïve to see how easily others take advantage of him, or is it the fault of those others, who are amateur or master manipulators with a firm awareness of an easy target when they see one? Is the question of some moral judgment even relevant when it doesn't matter a lick for Henry's fate?

Mamet's stage work—of which this is an example, since the writer/director adapted his 2023 play with the same title—is generally more enticing when it's morally and thematically ambiguous, because it simply lets us take in the color and pace of the dialogue without worrying too much about what it all means. The dialogue in this film shines in that hyper-realistic way that defines the writer's best efforts. Every line here feels like a little duel being fought by its conversationalists, because each of the four scenes here sets Henry against three different men who want to teach the guy a lesson or two about life, the world, the nature of humanity, and, above all else, himself.

It starts with a self-contained scene of great tension, plenty of legal and ethical questions, and a last-minute revelation that, after being treated to the verbal equivalent of a sword fight, feels like witnessing a most violent coup de grâce come out of nowhere. The scene features Henry and his boss Mr. Barnes (Chris Bauer), who finds himself quite stunned and almost offended when Henry asks the man to give a job to one of Henry's friends.

The lengthy dialogue provides an abundance of exposition—about who this friend is to Henry, about what the friend did that is so distasteful to Mr. Barnes, about what the stories Henry has to tell about this old buddy's character really say about the friend and, more importantly, Henry's willingness to be agreeable, as well as his attraction to people who can hold sway over him. This scene never feels like a bunch of explaining, though.

After all, the issue is in the here and now (how Henry will plead his friend's case and what the boss will decide), while the brutal punch line of the whole conversation sets up even more problems for our man. Plus, Mamet is the best expert of understanding the pacing and significance of his own dialogue, ensuring that it's matched by the rhythm of the editing (by Banner Gwin) and the framing of the actors (with surprisingly rich lighting from cinematographer Sing Howe Yam highlighting backdrops and close-ups).

To hint at the final revelation of the scene, Henry spends the rest of the story in prison. There, he winds up having three more conversations with a pair of seemingly very different men. One is Gene (Shia LaBeouf), his cellmate, who introduces himself to Henry with a big speech about human nature and always has pessimistic answer to any of Henry's objections.

That initial scene between them has Gene explaining to Henry exactly the kind of person each one is. Gene is a man who sees other people basically divided between predators and prey, making him a predator, naturally. Meanwhile, Henry's history with his old friend and the episode with the boss show that he is on the other side of that equation.

Henry hears everything that Gene says to him, and the rest of the film essentially proves Gene's point. If Henry had genuinely listened to what his cellmate was explaining about how he and everyone else perceives Henry, the guy wouldn't be in the positions that arise in the proceeding pair of scenes. One features Gene once again, trying to convince Henry that the one person in prison who might actually care about him and be able to help him is just as conniving as any con artist. The other revolves around a prison guard (played by Dominic Hoffman), who gets a front row seat to how awfully Henry's impotence spirals out of control without him even realizing it.

Hopefully, none of this gives away too much about the specifics of the events of the plot, because there genuinely is a sense of surprise to how far a few bad decisions and Henry's inability to stand up for himself actually take the guy. Mostly, Henry Johnson is a showcase for these actors and Mamet's singular ability to make an entire story solely out of the way people talk.

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