Darren Aronofsky is a director who, in my eyes, has never missed. Even the least celebrated of his work shows an intensity of vision or pure filmmaking bravura that cannot be denied. Five years after MOTHER! – the most controversial film of his career (which I loved) – he’s back in Venice competition with THE WHALE, an intimate, gripping chamber piece brimming with insight and compassion. It’s a far cry from the splashy sensory overload of REQUIEM FOR A DREAM or THE FOUNTAIN, but the craftsmanship and performances on display are no less impressive. The perfect track record stands.
Set inside an apartment in rural Idaho over the course of five days, the film revolves around Charlie (Brendan Fraser), a morbidly obese man whose heart is about to give out. We meet Charlie in a medical emergency where he’s saved by a young missionary named Thomas (Ty Simpkins) who happens to be knocking on his door. They’re soon joined by Charlie’s one good friend Liz (Hong Chau), who finds that his blood pressure has reached fatal heights. Instead of the spiritual guidance Thomas offers or a hospital visit requested by Liz, Charlie wishes only to reconnect with his teenage daughter Ellie (Sadie Sink), whom he hasn’t seen since he left her and her mother Mary (Samantha Morton) to be with a male lover years ago. Over the next days, we’ll learn more about each of these five characters as they confront and interrogate one another – about love, faith, and what matters at the end of a life.
The screenplay by Samuel D. Hunter, adapted from his own play, is a tremendous piece of writing. It describes in detail what it’s like to be so large you have trouble standing up, can’t pick up anything without the help of tools and need all kinds of apparatus just to get through the day in your own home. It asks you to consider the psychology of someone who’s pitied or found repellent by everyone they come in contact with. And it makes you wonder what could have driven someone to treat their body in a way that’s no longer indulgent but actively abusive. With each new revelation you get closer to the protagonist and can better see the world through his greatly compromised but no less human perspective.
The ensemble cast is outstanding. To my eyes, the prosthetics on Fraser don’t always look convincing, but his performance never rings false. It’s not just adopting the physicality of a plus-plus-sized person either, it’s the emotional transparency he brings that truly shines. Whether in scenes of accusation, rebuke or admission, his face gives you open access to Charlie’s innermost turmoil. And the few scenes of levity he also delivers with brilliant deadpan, adding further substance to the characterization. Chau and Sink are both superb in their sizable supporting roles. The former is soulful and earnest while the latter provides much of the film’s comedic relief. Morton only shows up for one big scene but leaves a huge impression through the sheer force of her presence. While Aronofsky’s direction keeps finding ways to open up the limited set, there are still times when a scene would appear somewhat “stage-y”. Every time that happens it’s the cast that turns the stiffness around with the rich humanity of their performances.
Thanks also to the grungily seductive cinematography by Matthew Libatique and the brooding, ominous music by Rob Simonsen, THE WHALE captivates from start to finish. For a film that has one set and stars an actor who’s barely mobile, that’s a remarkable achievement however you slice it.
At a festival that has already given us films about egomaniacal female conductors, romantic cannibals, white-supremacist-turned-gardeners, and a 600-pound spectacle of a man, can a story about “normal”, reasonably attractive people even compete? Turns out it can. As always, the job of supplying the most sophisticated love story between mortals went to the French. In this case to Rebecca Zlotowski and her moving, deeply perceptive competition entry OTHER PEOPLE’S CHILDREN.
The story centers around Rachel (Virginie Efira), a Parisian teacher who seems to have found the man of her dreams with Ali (Roschdy Zem), a kind, generous designer also in middle age. If there’s one catch it’s that Ali has a 5-year-old daughter Leila with his ex-partner Alice. But all parties involved are willing to do their best to make the new situation work, so this could end happily for everybody, right?
Indeed, the first hour of this film goes by almost like a romcom, with Rachel enjoying every minute with her new beau and embracing Leila as her own. The only hint of conflict comes when Leila innocently asks her father why is Rachel at their place all the time, and demands to see her mother before a weekend trip with Rachel is up. Well-made but rather conventional, I thought. A little petty even, to build dramatic tension on a child’s natural response. Imagine my surprise when, in its final act, the film brings all the carefully scattered clues together to reveal a heartbreakingly wise take on that ever-elusive thing called love. As much as it is about finding and hanging on to one’s other half, love’s also about wanting the best for them and their loved ones. When the time comes, it’s about letting go.
Zlotowski’s script constructs a beautiful emotional arc for Rachel based on her relationship with Leila. There’s genuine affection from the start, but also a little bit of jealousy, hurt and perhaps even resentment on the part of the eager stepmom who’s running out of time to have children of her own. But when she finally bids goodbye to the little girl, you know love’s all that’s left. Efira kills that last half-hour, playing a woman going through numerous painful realizations. Some of the emotions she needs to convey are so subtle there are probably no words for them, but with the faintest smile or an imperceptible pause, she makes you feel every last one of them. Let’s just say Madam Blanchett’s road to that Coppa Volpi will not be without contest.
As this film persuasively suggests, the saddest things in life are often nobody’s fault. The best we could hope for as we stumble from one disappointment to the next is to make some memories along the way that can get us through the rough patches. While we don’t know whether Efira’s character has found happiness as she strolls down a busy street in the film’s charmed open ending, the easiness of her step tells you she’s ready for whatever may come.
