Reviews

This is the most powerful of several family dramas this year (2011), and the best husband-wife drama in many years. It's a film of uncommon power and insight, written and directed by Jeff Nichols, who shows us the anxiety so many Americans are feeling in the wake of the financial crisis and recession. Michael Shannon, an actor of extraordinary skill, plays Curtis LaForche, an Ohio family man who's managed to hang on to a construction job with decent health care insurance. He's married to a good woman, Samantha, played by Jessica Chastain, who's dressed down here as a small-town wife and mother. The pair have a modest home that they share with their young daughter, Hannah (Tova Stewart) and dog, Red. Hanna is deaf, needs an expensive operation, and fortunately Curtis's health insurance will pay for it. This is a true picture of American family life – a good marriage, a good home, a good job with insurance, all made possible by hard work and the values Americans have long held dear. Still, money is tight: much is expected of Curtis at work, and Samantha sells her hand-sewn crafts at the local swap meet to make ends meet.

Curtis is content with the life he's built. And his best friend at work, Duart (Shia Whigham), tells him with envy: "You've got a good life, Curtis." We agree, until Curtis starts having a series of bad dreams that threaten everything he has. In the first of many dreams, or visions of impending doom as he thinks they are, a bad storm scares the family dog into viciously biting him. The next day, the pain is so real he builds an outdoor pen for him. This mystifies Samantha and Hanna because Red has always lived indoors and is quite docile. Curtis offers no explanation. He continues to dream of horrific storms, preceded by giant swarms of ominous blackbirds and sinister greasy rain. At first, he tries to hide this from everyone, including Samantha, because he suspects the onset of mental illness. He's just turned 35, the same age his mother was diagnosed with schizophrenia, from which she never recovered. He reads books on mental illness and seeks counseling at a community health center. He's entirely rational about taking steps to correct his problem, believing it's his duty as a husband and father. Still, he can't shake the feeling that a doomsday storm is coming, and he may not be mentally ill at all, but just prescient. If he's right, he must protect his family. Nothing is more important, and thus he embarks on enlarging a backyard storm shelter. But improving the shelter requires a bank loan he can ill afford, as well borrowing heavy construction equipment from work, which is prohibited. Curtis presses ahead, anyway, because he's convinced the apocalypse is coming. Curtis and Samantha live in a small town, and soon everyone is abuzz with gossip: what's wrong with Curtis? Samantha can't fathom it, but her love for her husband comes first. Chastain's performance here may seem small and subtle at first, but soon we see she's a partner of extraordinary emotional strength, and every thing she says and does rings true.

As Curtis's symptoms (or prescient visions) worsen, he's focused only on completing the storm shelter, but Samantha insists they have a normal family outing and attend a community barbecue. He doesn't want to go, but does so to please her. Circumstances are stacked against him, however, due to a misunderstanding with Duart, and he's pushed into a violent exchange that ends in him screaming at all in attendance that they have no idea what's coming. Samantha is heartbroken, not only because of this outburst but because she realizes her husband is in great pain. And then to our surprise, the tornado comes, and it's so big it could wipe the town off the map. Unlike many others, Curtis is prepared, and he takes his family into his well-built shelter that now has electricity, ventilation, food, cots, and plumbing. What transpires inside during the storm is frightening. The dramatics between husband and wife reach a near unbearable intensity. And this is where Shannon and Chastain shine, delivering performances that match the best couples in film history. Shannon, in particular, proves he should have been nominated for an Oscar for his performance (note how perfectly he handles the nuance and cadence of the most difficult scenes). This is the electrifying climax, but not the end. And when the end comes a few minutes later, it will stun you. It's the best ending of any film this year, and it's not a gimmick or a cop-out, as some mistakenly believe.

I was fortunate to attend a screening that included a Q&A with Michael Shannon. One audience member asked the question you will surely ask, and that audiences everywhere debated: "Is Curtis this, or is he that?" But avoid the trap of a literal interpretation because the meaning is not in that answer, which Shannon confirmed at the Q&A. Pay close attention to the subtle communication between Hanna, Curtis and Samantha in the final breathtaking scene that will put a chill on your spine. The meaning is in what they are experiencing, together, as a family, and it's an affirmation that they will survive. This film, along with Margin Call, are the two best movies of the year. And both go together, hand and glove, as cause and effect. The two films give us the big picture of America today: the history of the last 4 years, the events that dramatically changed our lives, and the stakes we now face. In one heartbreaking scene when Curtis finally confides to Samantha about his dreams, he tells her, "It's not just a dream, it's a feeling, that something is coming, something that's not right." This is a perfect metaphor for our anxious times.

Just ahead, I'll tell you how to know if you'll love or hate this movie (very few will be in between). But first, I'm always surprised to see people reading the novel, rushing to the movie, and then expressing disappointment with remarks such as, "there are gaping holes." A 2-hour movie is a 110-page screenplay, which means a 300-page novel becomes a 6-hour miniseries. Get Martin Scorcese, hire "Never Let Me Go" novelist Kazuo Ishiguro to write the screenplay, and cast it right, and you'll have a shot at making a miniseries that CAN be compared to the novel; otherwise, let's understand the limitation and let the film stand on its own. I didn't read Ishiguro's novel, and I found Mark Romanek's film (screenplay by Alex Garland) to be a beautiful, profound and complete meditation on life. It demonstrates the best and worst of human behavior, the beauty of undying love, and the heroism of accepting responsibility (or fate in this case). To me, the story is uplifting and memorable, in spite of its overall sad and melancholy tone. What's more, it's seamless, from the superb performances by Carey Mulligan, Keira Knightley, and Andrew Garfield, to the near perfect direction by Romanek, to its gorgeous cinematography with muted color palette, to its precise wabi-sabi production design (the beauty of worn and broken things). But how can you know if you'll like this film or not?

Forget the Sci-Fi angle; it's insignificant except as a stepping-off point for a story that reveals great truths: That life is short, your choices have consequences, and at the end none of us may feel we've had enough time to love, or just get things right. But I can safely say... If you interpret your movies literally, you will not like this film. If you need action, a fast pace, explosions and special effects, you will not like this film. If your idea of a great movie is Inception, forget it.

On the other hand, if you can appreciate a fine story by Henry James, Edith Wharton, or Katherine Anne Porter, this film is made for you. If you enjoyed Todd Haynes' lovely melodrama, Far from Heaven, or Oren Moverman's powerful movie, The Messenger, or Tom Ford's poignant film, A Single Man, you'll love this picture. The story addresses themes of love, longing, jealousy, betrayal, courage, atonement, and perhaps most important "acceptance." The film also asks us to consider the "morality of science," and some might find this aspect chilling, but to me the larger human themes overwhelm this one.

When I saw Never Let Me Go, the theater was about one-third full, but probably one-third of these folks walked out by the half-way point. And, surprisingly, the couple sitting behind me got up and walked out 10 minutes before the end, once they were convinced (revealed by their groans) that the story would not have a happy ending. Apparently, they were looking for the "feel good movie of the year." Sadly, they missed the most extraordinary and beautiful ending -- most of the emotional power comes in that last 10 minutes -- but then I suppose they wouldn't have understood it. But to me, Never Let Me Go is the "feel good movie of the year," precisely because it tells the truth: life is beautiful because there are hopes and dreams, love and loss, tears and tragedies.

One final note: Keira Knightley and Andrew Garfield are excellent in their roles, but Carey Mulligan is the standout -- she shows a wisdom and weariness far beyond her years, and handles difficult emotional material with a sublime restraint that makes the whole thing work. I feel we are witnessing the early work of the next Deborah Kerr, Sarah Miles, or Vanessa Redgrave.

This is an excellent film, one of the best of the year, and not to be missed by those who appreciate depth and literary quality.