As defined early within Gus Van Sant’s new film, a “dead man’s wire” — the modern term originally derived from “dead man’s line” — is a simple device, much like a harness, that’s wrapped around a loaded gun and its victim: the slightest twitch pulling away from the weapon automatically fires its trigger, instantly killing its prey. It’s incredibly low-tech and ingenious altogether, which was seemingly created by Tony Kiritsis, made famous in his 1977 hostage crisis.

Dead Man’s Wire, a modern retelling of the strange-but-true events of that fateful four-day standoff, stars Bill Skarsgård as Kiritsis, a blue-collar everyday guy who develops land that a grocery store chain intends to purchase. Instead, he misses a couple of payments and Meridian Mortgage Company repossess it. That’s when Kiritsis takes matters into his own hands.

Bumbling and stumbling, Tony’s practically sweating through the screen as he makes his way into a financial meeting, eventually kidnapping bank president Dick Hall (played by Dacre Montgomery), demanding his loan to be forgiven, financial compensation, to be freely released, but most importantly, an apology from the head of the bank, who put him through the wringer for four long years. Little did he know that the bank does not negotiate with terrorists.

“Now, I’m a not a bad fella. I’m a mean motherfucker and I’m mad!”

When it comes to the Skarsgårds, Stellan and Alexander have won their fair share of individual awards, but it feels like if Bill — best known for his recent portrayal of Pennywise the Dancing Clown — gets another meaty role like Tony Kiritsis in a feature film that actually receives a major media campaign, then he’ll be the first Oscar winner within the family.

Here, in Dead Man’s Wire, his character has been wronged by the company, and his pent-up rage feels justified — it’s the man’s overall reaction that feels somewhat unnecessary. Even though his character may be sleep deprived throughout the process, he doesn’t think he’s a monster; he simply believes himself to be a national hero.

With shades of Jim Carrey’s Cable Guy, the actor does deranged characters well, but a concerned everyman even better.

Colman Domingo’s DJ Fred Temple offers a voice of reason in Dead Man’s Wire.

Kiritsis doesn’t have too many friends helping him in this movie, but he does manage to get his story out to the local radio show of “The Voice of Indianapolis” DJ Fred Temple, a character highlighting Domingo Coleman’s smooth, silky voice, only accentuating the actor’s coolness quotient by miles. He’s definitely one of my favorite actors.

Stranger than fiction, Tony Kiritsis’ real-life fate definitely feels made for TV and Van Sant does a great job holding my interest throughout the film’s entire one-hour-and-45-minute runtime. Although he was armed and highly volatile, his cause was incredibly relatable. This revolution was televised, brought to you, in part, by 101 producers — I can’t even fathom that number of people attempting to collaborate together — was every person involved with making this film actually given a producer’s credit?

Seems like it.

As far as real-life outlaw folk heroes go, Tony Kiritsis should be high on your list. And if you don’t recognize the name, you should definitely watch Dead Man’s Wire. It won’t make you a fan of major mortgage companies or big banks, but it might just sell you on Bill Skarsgård’s acting abilities, if you weren’t a fan of the actor, already.

“I’m not gonna admit guilt to something I didn’t do…”