There's a moment in the movie, without spoiling anything, where the father, played by Michael Harney, slams his thumb with a hammer. The reaction on his face is genuine. I could feel the pressure on my own thumb nail. A small detail that reverberates power throughout this film. This film is power. And it's old school power. The work the actors are doing is reminiscent of Schatzberg's films of the early mid 70's, where actors were allowed and given the time to explore their characters through raw behavior. Thanks to a wonderful and patient writer/director, Mark Kemble, the work is allowed to resonate.
The small details in life are often missed for a more surfaced cinematic punch. The spectacle of explosion, or tears, or rage. "We meed to see that you're upset in order to make this moment happen!" Unfortunately, this is the case for most movies made in 2019. Kemble allows his material to breathe. Like a river, he guides his actors down their own intimate journey. Instead of identifying a moment and mathematically pining it down, he takes the uncomfortable route and lays it out raw. And in doing so, his actors find the darker parts of themselves through a very personal script.
This film of course is not for everyone. It has a melancholy tone with sometimes slow pacing. But if recognized, the honesty that lays underneath the gentle score parallels a depth seen in playwrights such as Arthur Miller and Tennessee Williams.
