Finestkind

There is a specific kind of salt-crusted, diesel-fumed New England grit that Brian Helgeland has been trying to bottle for two decades. The man who gave us the screenplay for L.A. Confidential and directed the underrated Payback grew up in New Bedford, Massachusetts, within a family of commercial fishermen. You can feel that lived-in history in every frame of Finestkind. It doesn't look like a "set"; it looks like a place where people lose fingers and sleep. I watched this on a Tuesday night while wearing a wool sweater that was slightly too itchy, which felt entirely appropriate for a movie about damp piers and the constant, low-grade irritation of family obligations.

The Anchor and the Current

The story centers on two half-brothers who share a father but inhabit different worlds. Ben Foster plays Tom, the seasoned captain of the Finestkind, a man who looks like he’s made of beef jerky and Atlantic gale winds. Toby Wallace is Charlie, the younger brother who just graduated from college and, in a fit of romanticized working-class yearning, decides to ditch law school to spend a summer dragging nets.

Ben Foster does that thing he does better than anyone else: he vibrates with a quiet, terrifying intensity that suggests he might either hug you or headbutt you at any given moment. Toby Wallace holds his own as the "smart kid" trying to prove he’s got the calluses to match his lineage. Their chemistry is the soul of the film. When they’re on the water, the movie is a soulful, rhythmic drama about the dying breath of an industry. It feels like a "Dad Movie" in the best sense—the kind of mid-budget, character-driven story that has largely migrated from the multiplex to streaming services like Paramount+. In our current era of "content" saturation, Finestkind feels like a throwback to the 90s dramas that relied on faces rather than franchises.

A Turn Toward the Deep End

Things get complicated when the brothers face a massive fine that threatens their livelihood. To save the boat, they strike a deal with a Boston crime syndicate. Enter Jenna Ortega as Mabel, a local girl with a drug-dealing mother and a remarkably cool vintage jacket. Jenna Ortega is the current "It Girl" of the streaming era, and while she’s talented, the script occasionally treats her like a human plot device with a heavy Boston accent. She’s the bridge between the brothers and the underworld, but her romance with Charlie feels a bit like a requirement rather than a natural progression.

Then there’s Tommy Lee Jones as Ray Eldridge, Tom’s estranged, terminally ill father. Jones can play "grumpy old man" in his sleep, but here he brings a weary, heartbreaking dignity to a man who knows his way of life is being regulated into extinction. When the film stays in this lane—the conflict between fathers and sons, the weight of heritage—it’s genuinely moving. However, the third act feels like it was written by a guy who just watched 'The Departed' for the first time on a 2x speed setting. It pivots from a grounded character study into a frantic crime thriller that doesn't quite fit the boots it started in.

The Long Walk to the Pier

Interestingly, Brian Helgeland spent over twenty years trying to get this made. At various points in the late 2010s, actors like Jake Gyllenhaal and Ansel Elgort were attached to the project. Watching the finished product, you can see why it was a hard sell for modern studios. It’s a film that refuses to be just one thing. Is it a gritty procedural about the Coast Guard? A family tragedy? A drug-smuggling thriller? It tries to be all three, and the seams definitely show.

The production value is high, thanks to Crille Forsberg’s cinematography, which captures the grey, unforgiving beauty of the North Atlantic without making it look like a postcard. It’s part of that "Sheridan-verse" aesthetic (with Taylor Sheridan producing), which favors stories about "men doing manly things in beautiful, harsh landscapes." While some might find the machismo a bit thick, I found the specificity of the fishing culture fascinating. They used actual local fishing boats for the shoot, and the authenticity of the gear and the lingo keeps the first two acts afloat even when the plot starts to leak.

Finestkind is a bit of a messy haul, but there's plenty in the net worth keeping. It suffers from a bit of an identity crisis in its final hour, moving from a soulful drama into a frantic thriller that feels a bit too "Hollywood" for a movie that started so honestly. Still, for anyone who misses the days when movies were built on the backs of great actors like Ben Foster and Tommy Lee Jones rather than CGI capes, it’s a journey worth taking. It’s not a masterpiece, but it’s the kind of solid, professional filmmaking that reminds me why we need stories about people who actually work for a living. Seek it out on a cold night when you’ve got a warm drink and a tolerance for some heavy-handed melodrama.