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Tuesday (The Movie)

Tuesday (The Movie)

June 27, 2024  |  214 words  |  Movies  

It is the small quiet films where nothing much happens that seem to make the biggest impression on me.  These little projects earn next-to-nothing at the box office, so among other things I come away grateful that such trifles can still find a way to be financed and produced.

Tuesday is the latest such movie to land on my list of all-time favorites.  It is advertised as a meditation on mortality, so right away you know this is not going to be a summer blockbuster.

It is an intimate two-character chamber piece focusing on a daughter who is placid about her impending death due to a debilitating disease, and her mother who is not so placid about the coming loss.

Death is also physically represented in the form of a colorful macaw that can morph from very small to quite large, and is given to the occasional laconic remark.

The talking bird takes a little getting used to at first, but by the final act the viewer understands what the screenwriter is up to, and the parable-like device is employed to great effect in bringing this moving story to a satisfying conclusion.

Lola Petticrew plays the daughter, Julia Louis-Dreyfus plays the mother, and Diana Pusic wrote and directed, in her feature film debut.

Robert J. Cavanaugh, Jr.

www.robertjcavanaughjr.com

bobcavjr@gmail.com

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The Nest

The Nest

June 13, 2024  |  420 words  |  Movies  

With it being so hard to find something worthwhile to watch these days, even with all these choices, I wanted to give a shout out to a quiet little movie I streamed last night that was just what the doctor ordered.

The Nest was a theatrical release in 2020 and apparently did next-to-nothing at the box office, based on a simple Google search I did this morning.  That same internet search offers various review of the film, one of which describes it this way:

“The Nest is a rich, layered drama, the kind of quiet film sorely missed these days.  Thanks to career-best performances from Jude Law and Carrie Coon and Sean Durkin’s excellent direction.  The Nest is something truly special.”

I completely agree.  Here is more from that same review:

“Each scene of The Nest feels meaningful, even when there are very few words spoken; it’s a tense rich drama, the stuff of films from decades past.  There is a pivotal fight scene between Rory (Jude Law) and Allison (Carrie Coon) that feels like a trip to the theater, but I mean than in the best way possible; rather than cutting between close-ups or dramatic angles, the camera lets the actors do all the work.

“They get in each other’s faces, they fully react, they breathe and think and feel.  It’s unlike anything I’ve seen in recent memory, and it shows a deep trust from the filmmaker in the performers.  This is really the heart of The Nest, a film that doesn’t feel the need to dazzle or put on a display.

“At times, it almost feels like a series of increasingly tense vignettes, portraits of a family in crisis, of the way a series of small explosions leads to one nuclear in scale.  Every development feels wholly earned, and the last scene – not a particularly loud or crazy one, but perhaps my favorite in the film – is a quiet conclusion, though not necessarily a resolution, a quietly astonishing finale few filmmakers ever attempt (and those that do rarely get it right).”

I hope this does not spoil anything for you; this movie was so good I just had to share.  The only other thing I will say is this: The Nest may not be what you are looking for on a Friday or Saturday night.  But last night was Wednesday, and this movie was perfect for me in every way.

P.S.  The perceptive insights quoted above belong to Jade Budowski writing on the Decider web site.

Robert J. Cavanaugh, Jr.

www.robertjcavanaughjr.com

bobcavjr@gmail.com

Use the contact form below to email me.

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The Magic Scene: Nebraska

The Magic Scene: Nebraska

July 12, 2022  |  630 words  |  Drama, Movies

It sort of goes without saying every good movie is made up of a series of enjoyable, engaging scenes.  But the really good movies, the ones that stick with you, have what I would call a magic scene.  Or maybe even more than one.  

Often the magic will hit you right away, as its unfolding.  But sometimes it’s only on the second or third viewing that the jewel – a bit of dialogue, a camera angle, a facial expression – jumps out at you.

I was watching Nebraska again today, mainly because there was nothing else available that interested me.  It’s a low-key family drama/road trip movie that first came out in 2013.  And let me warn you – it starts off slowly.   The actor Bruce Dern is very believable as grouchy old coot Woody Grant who is starting to lose his marbles.  The actress Jane Squibb is also very convincing as his equally grouchy wife, Kate.  These early scenes are not that much fun to watch.  I came pretty close to giving up and turning it off.

But then we start to learn a little of the main character’s back story.  And his long-suffering wife is also given some context.  And before you know it, this quiet little black-and-white film had me at full attention.  The screenwriter manages to put a good bit of nuance into this simple story of a nondescript old married couple.  And the director does a good job of bringing all that nuance to life.

There is plenty of good dialogue along the way, but for me the proverbial magic scene happened in the second half of the movie.  The plot involves Woody’s son, David, driving his father from Billings, Montana, to Lincoln, Nebraska, to claim a bogus magazine sweepstakes prize Woody is convinced he won.

They make a pit stop in Hawthorne, Nebraska, to spend a few days with relatives, bumping into a few of Woody’s old friends, and visiting the now-deserted family homestead.  Kate takes the bus down from Billings to join them.  At one point David ventures into town on his own and wanders into the storefront that houses the town’s newspaper.  It’s run by a widow we learn was one of Woody’s long-ago high school girlfriends.

She tells David a key fact about his father’s past he was previously unaware of.  This prompts her to slowly pull out an oversized book filled with old clippings.  That’s the magic scene.  And it kind of snuck up on me.  This small wisp of a woman as the quite keeper of everyone’s life story.  The way the camera follows her from behind as she pulls the book off a shelf and moves to a counter to open it up, is a beautiful thing to behold.

By now the movie has hit its stride and I’m on the edge of my seat.  When some greedy relatives are telling David how they lent his father money years ago, and they now want to be repaid out of his phantom lottery winnings, Kate steps in.  “I kept records,” she barks at the in-laws.  Turns out Woody was a soft touch who gave away far too much free gasoline and auto repair work at the service station he once owned in Hawthorne.  

In one short burst of a speech Kate defends her husband and his easily-exploited good nature, while telling the in-laws to go pound sand.  Oh, how I loved this woman in that moment.

And speaking of love, by the end of the movie the viewer has fallen completely in love with this cantankerous old pair.  And it’s obvious that David, their gown son, has come to a much deeper appreciation of both his parents.  What a fine little film this is.  Hats off to all involved.

Robert J. Cavanaugh, Jr

July 12, 2022

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