Showing posts with label William H. Macy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label William H. Macy. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 28, 2015

Room



**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Lenny Abrahamson/Starring: Brie Larson, Jacob Tremblay, Joan Allen, William H. Macy, Sean Bridgers and Tom McCamus

The film Room is dramatized beautifully and with great power but its most fascinating character may be a little boy, who, never having seen the world in his first five years, is suddenly thrust into it with little or no preparation. What does the world look like to him; his understanding of it being solely derived from television and what his mother has told him? Director Lenny Abrahamson and Emma Donoghue, who adapted the screenplay from her own novel of the same name, attempt to answer that question and in doing so, leave us with a gripping and unforgettable story.

Without tracing the steps leading to the young woman and her son's imprisonment, we meet the mother; Joy "Ma" Newsome (Brie Larson, in an amazing, breakthrough role) and her son Jack (an equally impressive Jacob Tremblay). Confined to what we gather is a shed, no space in their tight living arrangement is wasted. As it becomes clear Ma and Jack are denied egress from their uncomfortably cramped space, we also learn how they survive when someone they refer to as Old Nick arrives periodically with food and supplies.

When the story begins, Jack rouses his mother from the bed they share to announce his birthday. In the course of the day, Ma manages to make him a cake but is unable to provide the candles Jack eagerly requests. How did Ma come to be here and who might her captor or captors be? Both questions are answered forthwith.

Sometime later we see Old Nick (Sean Bridgers)from Jack's perspective; through the closet door slats. Joy forbids her captor any visual or physical contact with her son (though it could only be his). Unable to see Nick's face, he watches as the man makes small talk with Ma while removing his clothes. That Old Nick imprisoned Ma is made fairly clear. How it happened is revealed later in a conversation between Ma and Jack.

We learn Ma has been held captive seven years, which means Jack was born in a sort of captivity. How Ma explains the world to Jack and how he makes sense of it becomes the narrative focal point. What Jack knows, including what he sees on television and who Old Nick might be, and what, if anything, lies beyond their walls, is filtered by his mother. The only view of the outside world is the skylight, which Jack stares out of with all the curiosity and wonder of a child.

As Jack's curiosity blossoms further and their health becomes more of an issue, Ma begins to see that an escape is an imperative, especially after Old Nick's violent outbursts become more frequent. But before she can hatch a plan, she explains to Jack who Old Nick really is and why they must leave Room (as Jack refers to it). Ma's explanation that there is a world outside the walls is met with disbelief and anger, as Jack rejects her descriptions as absurd fabrications. It is hard not to think about Plato's Allegory of the Cave as Ma attempts to make the concept of outside comprehensible. When Jack questions her about what is real and imaginary on television, we can see how someone ignorant of the world might not know the difference.

Their escape (no spoiler here; the trailer gives it away) is harrowing and thrilling; a cunning feat Ma devises but doesn't go entirely to plan. That the scheme involves Jack leaving Room for the first time is part of the excitement.

The rest of the film deals with the aftermath of their long incarceration as their liberation becomes a media circus and Ma is reunited with her mother Nancy (Joan Allen) and father Robert (William H. Macy). How Ma; now Joy, and Jack cope with freedom becomes the new focus. And with freedom comes an array of problems with which Joy must contend. One is her father, who is emotionally ill-equipped to deal with his daughter and grandchild and another is her mother, who she assigns some blame for her abduction. We also see the acute psychological fall-out from her ordeal. But again, it is Jack's introduction to the world that we await with bated breath. Abrahamson makes us see how strange and frightening it would be to find oneself suddenly thrust into the world and for Jack to live in an unconfined space with people other than his mother. We also feel Jack's reluctance to love and trust others. We also get a sense of what it would be like for a little boy to see a dog for the first time. Joy's most fervent desire--for Jack to be connected to the world, is an issue the film doesn't leave dangling.

I left the theater, unable to think of little else but Abrahamson's film. It is a story that stimulates many emotions; fear, dread, anger, love, elation, wonder and at the risk of sounding mawkish; hope. Though the story is Joy and Jack's; it is really in a sense his story and because Abrahamson and Donoghue make it so, the film is the richer for it.

Brie Larson has quickly become one of America's most versatile actresses. Her performance alone is reason enough to see Room but her co-star nearly steals the show. No doubt Jacob Tremblay will figure prominently in year-end award considerations.

If the film is a breakthrough opportunity for Larson, it is no less so for Abrahamson. Room is a radical departure from his amusing, oddball film Frank. Abrahamson shepherds the story through the emotional crests and troughs with such sensitivity and power; never forgetting the center of this affecting story: a five year-old boy.

Room opens near the end of a month in which a surge of excellent films made their mark. It earns its designation as being among the best of the year. It derives its power from something so seemingly elemental as the relationship of a mother and her son. I'm still thinking about it days later.

Monday, January 26, 2015

Cake



**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Daniel Barnz/Starring: Jennifer Aniston, Adriana Barraza, Anna Kendrick, Sam Worthington, Mamie Gummer, Felicity Huffman and William H. Macy

It's easy to understand why many film-goers and critics felt Jennifer Aniston was cheated out of an Oscar nomination for her performance in director Daniel Barnz's Cake. Her role is a refreshing departure from the junk in which she is usually cast and she ensures the opportunity isn't wasted.

Whether the rest of the film holds up to Aniston's ambitious performance is for every moviegoer to decide. For me, it was a stimulating experience if not a riveting one. The film begins well and sustains its darkly comic tone before stumbling a bit in the third act.

Aniston plays Claire Bennett, a lawyer who has taken leave from her profession to recover from a horrific accident that left her son dead and her face and body with a disturbing array of surgical scars. When we first see her, she is in group therapy for pain management and judging from her peevishness, the meeting holds little therapeutic value to her. Conducting the session is Annette (Felicity Huffman, in a marginal, caricatured role), who has asked everyone to address a photograph of a former group member named Nina Collins (Anna Kendrick), who has recently committed suicide and left the group with more emotional pain to shoulder. When Annette asks that each member tell Nina how her suicide has affected them, Claire's sarcastic response eventually leads to her dismissal from the therapy group.

Though Claire makes a mockery of the therapy session, she is haunted by the death of her fellow support group member and friend.

When not in therapy, Claire spends her days in agonizing pain, which necessitates the use of copious pharmaceuticals; some which she hides from the prying eyes of her housekeeper/assistant; Silvana (Adriana Barraza). As Claire suffers from her injury and the loss of her son, she becomes mildly obsessed with Nina's death; going so far as to visit the precise location of her friend's suicide; which occurred on an L.A. overpass.

Jennifer Aniston shows a surprising aptitude for playing a darker character than she is accustomed. And to give such a character credibility, she suppresses her movie-star comeliness; her signature, silky locks are denied their glamorous luster and her face bears scant make-up.

As Claire's nightmares of Nina occur with disturbing frequency, she decides to visit her friend's former home by pretending to be a former occupant. Nina's husband Roy (Sam Worthington) sees through the deception but allows Claire to roam the house anyway. He confronts her afterward and though he seems a little perturbed by her ruse, he offers her a friendly handshake. In the coming days, a friendly, sympathetic bond forms between them.

Whether Claire will ever fully recover from the accident becomes a plot point, as her medication provides only temporary relief and her physical therapy sessions prove to be little more than exercises in hostility, which she venomously directs at her therapist.

Other obstacles to her mental and physical recovery present themselves: Claire's contentious relationship with her former husband and a visit from the man responsible for her accident (William H. Macy), who shows up at her door one day, full of contrition and guilt. Claire's violent response to his presence is one of the more poignant moments in the film.

Barnz keeps the story from wallowing in too much darkness and Claire from becoming a tedious, insufferable victim. A glimmer of hope arrives late in the film to alleviate the gloom but the story resists a neat, life-affirming resolution.

One of the film's flaws is providing the audience plausible motivation for Claire making Nina the object of so much guilt and grief, though her own existential crises might adequately serve as motivation enough. Another flaw is the film's ill-advised turn in the third act when Claire comes into contact with a runaway--an unconvincing plot grafting that does little for the narrative.

Aniston's performance is terrific. One can only hope she builds on this career opportunity rather than doing more time in dreary, witless comedies. Other than Silvana (deftly played by Adriana Barraza), other characters are more broadly drawn. Some actors' roles, like Macy's, are only cameos. I wish the screenwriter had given Sam Worthington's Roy more substance; he clearly lacks Claire's psychological layers.

Nevertheless, Aniston's performance is reason enough to see the film. If I could, I would gladly give her Felicity Jones' undeserving Oscar nomination for The Theory of Everything. But make no mistake, this is a performance film rather than a well-rounded drama.

I don't know that I'll remember the film for being something other than Aniston's breakthrough role, which is too bad. If the story runs out of gas, it still manages to engage. That's more than I can say for most Jennifer Aniston films. Let's hope this marks some kind of turning point in her career.