After 43 years of marriage? Then, after a brief fling with the gay lifestyle in
general and a younger man in particular, his father, too, dies of cancer. Meanwhile,
the grieving son struggles with the idea of making himself vulnerable to a new
relationship.
Doesn’t sound very amusing, does it? Ah, but director and writer Mike Mills has
created a quirky, funny, lovely little valentine that’s fun to watch, despite the very
serious subject matter.
The casting is superb. Christopher Plummer plays Hal, the dad, with just the right
combination of irascible curmudgeon, doting parent, repressed plutocrat and likable
adventurer. Ewan McGregor, as his son Oliver, conveys a complex rainbow of
emotions (pun intended): shock because he had no idea who his dad really was;
genuine affection for his once-distant father; wistfulness as he sorts through distant
memories of his pretty-but-sad mom; obsession with grief, even at work; and
contentment, somehow, with solitary living and long silences.
But Oliver’s social awareness is awakened first by inheriting his dad’s dog, a Jack
Russell terrier who can’t stand for Oliver to be out of his sight. So Oliver just takes
him everywhere. And finds he can talk to the dog easily. This is where Mills has a
little fun by training the camera on the dog and inserting subtitle dialogue from the
dog. (OK, it’s funny the first few times, but it gets a little overused.)
Oliver has a couple of friends who insist that he come with them to a costume party,
where he disguises himself as Sigmund Freud, pretending to “analyze” everyone who
wants a private session (and conveniently not having to do much talking himself).
That’s when he meets Anna (Melanie Laurent), who has to write her responses,
because she has laryngitis, which of course pierces Oliver’s carefully constructed
defensive mechanisms. That, and she’s impossible not to look at. She’s a model and
actress who is so accustomed to being away and leaving people that she’s managed
to make herself almost completely isolated. But she’s smart and funny and engaging.
They play a game where they pretend they are aliens, describing their environment
for the first time. They are both very patient with each other about self-revelation.
They both allow long silences, without the need to fill them with idle chatter. They
both appreciate old music and good books. They take it very slowly, but they are
obviously developing a quiet affection for each other. But he’s used to leaving people
too. And both seem afraid as the relationship progresses, as if they don’t really trust
happiness, which, of course, then becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Meanwhile, Oliver continues to process the death and dying of his father, through lots
of flashbacks and his end-of-life gay lifestyle. Hal’s “boyfriend” would bring him
surprise gifts, like a grasshopper (which turned out to be fake) or a caterpillar (which
turned out to be real). The gay guys have a fireworks party where they yell expletives
as loud as they can. Just because. Mills will interrupt the narrative to show us images
on the screen of how people dressed in certain eras, who the president was, what
products were advertised. He’ll show visuals of inanimate objects, give a house tour
(this is my crowded bathroom). As if his attention continues to refocus throughout
this story, which feels more subjective than linear anyway.
But there’s a deep sensitivity here, as well as a playful sense of humor, that endears
the viewer to all these struggling characters, none of whom can quite figure out who
they are, but after a while you remember that that’s one of the interesting parts about
life – continually searching, seeking, observing, marveling and wondering. As if
we’re all just beginners.
Ronald P. Salfen is co-pastor, United Presbyterian Church, Greenville, Texas
