Two of cinema's most tired tropes include the mafia and Hispanics committing crime.

For some reason, both of these concepts are often treated if not in the same manner, then not far from other conceptions of the themes. But JC Chandor, the very director who opted for making a film with barely any dialogue with one actor, has shown that he is more than capable of taking tired material and making it fresh again.

And this is exactly what he has done with his latest film "A Most Violent Year." Set in New York during the 1980's, the film steps into the world of Abel Morales, a growing oil tycoon who is looking to buy a strategic venue for his business. But he is facing some trouble. Not only must he come up with the money to pay for the location within a few weeks, but he is also losing money due to increased attacks on his trucks. The attacks are causing rifts with the drivers' union, which threatens to stop servicing Abel or to give the drivers weapons so that they may defend themselves. Abel, whose last name means morals in Spanish, is a man of integrity and refuses to engage in violent actions to protect his business. Instead he believes that enduring is the only way to success.

The problem for Abel is manifold. He is losing money from the attacks, he has the DA looking to prosecute him for questionable financial records and his wife is all for taking violent action against the people harming their business.

Chandor's take certainly presents a new angle to the American Dream. In a world where filmmakers want to imitate the Godfather films when showcasing the mafia or other crime organizations, Chandor has opted to show a man who wants to, in his own words, "avoid being a gangster." This is not a Hispanic who has come to deal drugs to build his empire. And this is also not a stereotypical rags-to-riches immigration story, either. Abel is well-established and he must face moral issues about whether he maintains his current path and its potential consequences or take a new approach and achieve certain success.

What adds to this complex tapestry is Abel's own behavior. For all of his claims of taking the high road, Abel "doth protest too much." He is constantly moralizing about his desire to avoid violence, leading to ever intense arguments with his wife. The revelations of some questionable behaviors add to the complexity and the viewer is always feeling as if a new facet of his personality is coming to the fore. That leaves a lot untold and presents a double-edged experience for the viewer. On one hand, there is a lot to consider and marvel at when studying Abel in the context of his dopplegangers. Take Julian, a young Hispanic who repeatedly notes his desire to grow and succeed like Abel. And he works hard to succeed. But he is also faced with constant danger (he is attacked twice in this film) and he wilts under the pressure. Julian is a reflection of the failure that Abel could face if he follows that path. But Abel also makes it clear that in some ways he has already lived the experiences of Julian and surpassed them.

And this is where the frustration comes from with some of the mystery that remains around Abel. A lot of details are actually left vague for the viewer. He has a younger brother that is in high school. Considering Abel's family life and riches, one would imagine that he would look to take care of his sibling. But he doesn't and the viewer never really knows. He also refuses to speak Spanish at a few junctures, emphasizing a rupture with his past life.

But the question remains: Why? Why is he looking to avoid his past? Is it because it contains a violent history (something that remains pure conjecture)? Or were his parents/relatives (who never get brought up) part of a shameful past? It makes for interesting speculation, but never ceases to be more than that due to the film's lack of clarity on this matter.

This is furthered by the facts and history given about other characters. The viewer knows about Julian's family life and even gets some knowledge from the character himself. Anna, Abel's wife, makes a few mentions of her father's notorious position and thus allows some of her behavior to be well understood and justified. The fact that these characters are well-established and defined only highlights the lacking details in Abel's own life.

But that does not mean that this portrait of Abel's life is not filled with unique relationships and circumstances. The most fascinating plot line in the entire film centers on the protagonist and his wife. Anna is not only filled with violent desires, but also sexually charged. She walks about in revealing outfits that emphasize her passionate nature. In one scene she does something horrific that even Abel is never able to do, emphasizing not only their differing moral standards, but showing the growing power struggle. In some ways, this relationship can be likened to a modern day Macbeth-Lady Macbeth. While he cowers from taking a decisive violent act, she has no issue with pushing him, sometimes through sexual means, to do as she pleases. The climactic confrontation between the two is filled with the violence and tension that the film promises throughout. It is worth noting that while they represent perfect adversaries in the film's main dramatic question, they are also one and the same when all is said and done. Even if Abel will not admit to some of his behaviors, he is not that different from Anna and she makes sure to remind him of it. It makes for a fascinating study of marriage, its allure, its passion and its discontents.

Interestingly, the sexual tension, which is suggested on a number of occasions, simmers but never actually reaches a boil. It is a tasteful choice, especially for a film in which its main protagonist stresses prudence.

Oscar Isaac is a revelation in the role of Abel and fills in a lot of the question marks left by the film's script. Early on he strikes a composed figure as Abel, rarely betraying any sign of frustration. But as stakes mount and his world unwinds, there are subtle glimpses of the growing fatigue. And then the inner battle between retaining this sense of composure or giving into his instinct makes for one of the more fascinating displays of the year. Here is an actor that express this conflict without ever actually reverted to massive gestures or outlandish changes of volume. Even when he does strike violent chords, there is an interesting show of restraint that continues this big inner battle within him. The viewer can almost feel that Abel wants to give into his urges, but is constantly reasoning against it.

While Isaac's performance relies on what his eyes and body reveal about his internal struggle, Chastain's Anna is all external. In the same manner that her attire expresses her sexuality in a direct manner, she has no filter and spouts out everything she is thinking. It leads to some unique dynamics between the two, especially when one sees her railing on Abel while he tries his best to contain himself. Her brazen personality also creates for some comic timing as well as creating a threatening presence that looms large even when she is not onscreen.

The other major standout is Eyles Gabel as Julian. Unlike Isaac's Abel, who is composed and constantly looking to retain this sense of strength, Gabel's Julian is weak and vulnerable. If Chastain's behavior lends the image of a strong woman about to explode into a violent rage, Gabel's looks and body language always give off the feel of a man ready to break down.

Other notable performances include Albert Brooks as the Morales' advisor and David Oyelowo as a defiant DA with sneaky motives.

The film moves at a brisk pace with some splendid visuals from Bradford Young. Close-ups abound, but there is an opaque quality to the imagery that not only reminds the viewer of the time period, but also hints at a hostility in this world. There are two images that truly standout in this film and they are juxtaposed almost like bookends. Early on, as Abel walks around the location he intends to buy, he looks out over the New York City skyline across the way. There are numerous shots of New York City skyline (including a terrific one with a snowy landscape), a symbol of growth and success, but they are always from a distance. So close for Abel, and yet, so far. As he looks out at that city, which he hopes to dominate someday (but never will), Abel is framed from a low angle, almost emphasizing his position of moral strength. But near the end of the film, with circumstances altering in significant ways, the camera is shown from a high angle on Abel. And instead of being among the grandiosity of the setting, he is standing in an empty parking lot. The framing, which features Abel on frame right with a lot of empty space behind him, only emphasizes his isolation as well as his own sense of weakness from decisions he has made. Though he is now successful, he lacks the moral high ground that he had at the start of the film.

More than a cautionary tale, "A Most Violent Year" almost condemns the impossibility of ideals such as the heroic American Dream. While the film shows that this dream is attainable, it lambasts any notion that it can be achieved without making certain concessions. And this is where this film, which takes many cues from Francis Ford Coppolla's great "Godfather" films, connects itself most fully with those two great films. To fulfill the American Dream, compromises must be made. And these aren't always the ones we feel most comfortable making.