Hi Folks – Jett here. It gives me great pleasure to introduce a new guest blogger on TFT: Brandon Nowalk. I’ve been enjoying his blog But What She Said for some time – it’s a great fast, pithy read with real insight into film coupled with genuine warmth, (and plenty of Fuller – I mean ya can’t go wrong with STEEL HELMET . . . STEEL HELMET people!).
Anyhew, I trust you’ll enjoy his weekly posts on TFT as much as I have on his site – with an infinite amount of content online it can be hard to find the good stuff – so I’m really very pleased that not only is Brandon is out there in the world blogging but that he’s agreed to visit us from time to time as well. Please join Gareth and myself in welcoming him – and now over to Brandon…
My biggest problem with Lisa Cholodenko’s The Kids are All Right is the title. But instead of ferociously demanding a refund after discovering Annette Bening’s abominable English accent is in service of a fictional story that has nothing to do with The Who, I found myself chugging the kool-aid of one of the most lauded films of the summer.
You probably know the story: Bening and wife Julianne Moore are fearlessly flawed parents raising a boy and a girl in the SoCal milieu of smelly composted hippiedom, and one day the boy (Josh Hutcherson) asks the girl (Mia Wasikowska) to use her age-of-consent for good, the tracking down of their biological father. When sperm donor Mark Ruffalo accepts, hijinks abound and complications ensue. It’s a heartwarming tale of love and—okay, no it’s not. It’s a singular picture unlike any family dramedy I’ve seen for reasons that have nothing to do with gender and everything to do with its portrayal of real life.
Now, it’s not without its clichés—a child prompting an irresponsible adult to grow up, the inevitable twist you already expect just from the premise—but The Kids are All Right absolutely transcends them thanks to its finely detailed, lived-in universe. Huge dramatic stories are told in pieces, seeds disguised as comedy planted for later harvest, and the whole plot breaks down into a graceful shifting of roles and needs among the players. These people were around long before Cholodenko dropped by with co-writer Stuart Blumberg. Cinematographer Igor Jadue-Lillo captures rather than stylizes the natural lighting and tastefully restrained palette of their home (as well as the spicy colors of Ruffalo’s environs). Life happens as it happens in all its awkward glory. In the mean time, Bening and Moore are free to bicker and make up, watch nature docs, and worry about their son’s choice of friends. Like the year’s other casual LA excursion Greenberg, only at the end do you realize how these details add up to a full portrait.
But this is no mere character study, though Bening’s tour de force as the breadwinner, wino, and (well, that would be a spoiler) leads a magnificent collection of naturalistic, textured performances right down to the kids, whose complexities have rendered Ruffalo’s first impressions shallow before the words escape his lips. And it’s not just a political appeal showing how gay families are “just like us,” though the situations and relationships are naturally relatable. Cholodenko’s acuity draws from the knowledge that lesbian families largely resemble the Norman Rockwell nuclear but also have their own joys and frustrations, with kids curious about their lineage and deeply burdened by an alienating sociopolitical climate. Ultimately, The Kids Are All Right is an exploration of progressivism by way of such a family in 2010, catching, mocking, and celebrating people who know they’re imperfect but strive to change for the better.
It all comes down to Julianne Moore: “The bottom line is marriage is hard.” Marriage, not gay marriage, just plain, old, sweaty, saggy, naggy, naked marriage. It’s a sitcom lesson animated by precision and topicality, building to this pensive shot as we think about what’s happened and wonder about the future for this family, mindful of the recent real-world headlines. It’s not tidy, the resolution, but it’s complete, leaving you with the unmistakable impression that the kids are indeed all right. It’s a true slice of life, quietly groundbreaking, making a difference simply by being itself.
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Brandon Nowalk writes about film and television for the Maroon Weekly in College Station, TX and at his blog But What She Said. His favorite films beyond the usual suspects include Henry King’s The Gunfighter, Alain Resnais’ Last Year at Marienbad, Orson Welles’ The Trial, Jan Nemec’s Diamonds of the Night, and David Lynch’s Inland Empire.
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