Meadowland

I suppose the reason most movies are so instantly forgettable is because, like the popcorn we shovel into our mouths distractedly while watching them, most movies are just bland, uninspiring, and only temporarily filling. They take few risks, break no new ground, and therefore leave us as we were when we entered the theater: hungry for something more substantial and memorable. Well, much admired cinematographer Reed Morano's first turn in the Director's chair, the haunting, visceral and formula shattering "Meadowland," which I caught at the Tribeca Film Festival last weekend, is simply unforgettable and searing. It burns its way into your memory, taking you on an ever-escalating trip through the unraveling of the world of parents unable to get any closure over a missing child who vanishes without a trace or clue, leaving the parents frozen in the time of the disappearance, immobilized yet stumbling through the mundane as they spend their days in a daze of incomplete, inchoate grief.

How do you mourn someone who is not dead but simply unaccounted for? In the hands of a less sensitive and brave director and cast, such a story would, at various times, turn melodramatic or maudlin, but Morano and her superb cast, led by Olivia Wilde, stay with the pace at which life honestly moves when grief is the gnawing feeling you wake up with every day. You live, but your life is lifeless, and every day their son stays missing is a little less a day for hope. Wilde gets progressively gaunt and hollowed with the passage of time, and she delivers a disciplined performance of aching realism, never giving in to the temptation to play Sarah broadly or with hand-wringing sympathy. Sarah's husband Phil, played by Luke Wilson in the equally defining role of his film career, is similarly staggered by his son's disappearance but falls down the rabbit hole of loss by a somewhat different route. While Sarah goes from lithium to lethargy, Phil goes for support from a group that includes John Leguizamo, superbly cast against his usual type, but Phil misunderstands the nature of support and loses a friend as he tries to take a shortcut in the twelve steps to rehabilitation. Wilson's eyes rarely show signs of the life he had before his son went missing; even when he is dealing with a domestic dispute with potentially explosive consequences, he seems bored by the banality of daily life even as he urges Sarah to accept the reality of their loss.

Morano clearly loves the actors with whom she works and gets career-defining performances from most of them, especially her two leads. Her dual role as cinematographer never seems to burden her. In fact, it may help to have the person actually behind the camera stand behind her actors. Her visuals are remarkably, even almost shockingly, bright and clear, from Sarah's yellow hoodie she wears when prowling the crowded city streets looking for her son to the clouds that hover over an otherwise dreary landscape of loss. Morano is a force to be reckoned with, and Meadowland is a film that celebrates her skills for story telling and her knack for getting the most out of her stars. Wilde and Wilson have never been better, but one senses Meadowland is just the beginning of even richer and deeper roles for both of them for a very long time. Meadowland is not without problems. The script tends to wander in the third act as if, like Sarah and Phil as they stumble through the fog of grief, not everyone is sure where things are ultimately headed. And let's be clear: this is not a subject matter that begs to be seen in a multiplex on a feel-good night out. But if film is indeed a window into our true selves, then Meadowland succeeds on every level because Morano, Wilde and Wilson are brave enough to tell a story without artifice and resolution. Much as we know, when we are truly honest with ourselves, that we have to live our lives without a story arc with a clear beginning, middle, and end, Meadowland honors the courage it takes just to keep living, especially when those who were so important that they were the center of those lives, cannot.

If your feeling down in the dumps or there's a gloomy cloud hovering over your head then Meadowland is not the film you'll be wanting to watch, actually it's about as far away as what'd you'd want to be watching as you could imagine as one time D.O.P turned feature length director Reed Morano's film is one of the most dour films to come around in quite some time.

The dour nature that imbeds itself into almost every single scene of this sometimes heart rendering bleak tale of grief, loss and heartache may be too much for some to bare but it's also in many ways Morano's greatest achievement, even though it doesn't make for typically entertaining viewing.

Given a meatier role than she's normally afforded, Olivia Wilde does a commendable job as the lost mother of a missing boy Sarah and alongside the well casted if under used Luke Wilson as her equally lost husband Phil the two actors give Meadowland their all and tackle the hard subject matter with aplomb even though we're sadly as an audience never truly aloud into their characters inner sanctum which hurts the films overall emotional gut punches.

Morano, as is the case with most first time directors, unfortunately fails to properly engage the audience into the films overall heart and soul and characters like Giovanni Ribisi's underused Tim and the odd appearance of Juno Temple's seductress like Mackenzie seem like missed opportunities while Sarah's odd feelings towards mentally handicapped school student Adam never really ring true especially towards the films last act and the film is undoubtedly at its strongest when the narrative focus's more intently on the plight of Sarah and Phil as they consider what may've become of their lost son and how they deal with the pain alongside each other.

Sometimes powerful, often frustrating and always from the get go grey cloud gloomy, Meadowland is an impressive first up effort by Morano and features committed turns by the normally misused Olivia Wilde and sometimes auto piloted Luke Wilson that make it a film worthy of your time as long as you're willing to go along with its depressive nature.

3 stale car snacks out of 5

This film tells the story of a married couple, whose young son disappeared in a petrol station, right under their noses. They react and grief in very different ways.

The name "Meadowland" doesn't reveal anything away, so the plot remains a secret to be revealed. As the plot unfolds, the vastly diverging journeys of the two adults become very gripping and engaging. What they have to go through is devastating, and I do feel for them. The mother's denial and maladaptive coping is so heart wrenchingly played by Olivia Wilde. She is the true star of the film. The ending is very effective and communicates without words. I'm moved by this story.

The film isn't anything that we haven't seen before, but it's still a rather effective experience. Olivia Wilde previously impressed everyone in Drinking Buddies when she showed us all what fools we were for doubting her talent. Here, she once again steps to the challenge and delivers an earnest, sincere, raw performance. I think she's a actress who does really great with portraying misery and sadness, and she can do wonders with her face. Luke Wilson is also impressive, but has less to do and Wilde is the ultimate shining star here. The film as a whole could've used some more work in its script, nothing too memorable, but definitely a solid film. Also, hey Elisabeth Moss appears.

This film was heart wrenching but beautiful.

It's a look at the story of how a couple cope with the loss of their son, and the pernicious effects of grief over time. The title itself, Meadowland, seems to be the mental land where the suffering protagonists go to escape, the dream land that exists to maintain the last shreds of hope in the face of overwhelming pain.

It makes an excellent job of conveying the gradual deterioration of the ability to cope with not knowing, not being able to say goodbye and the juxtaposition of the need for closure with the incredible fear of accepting the inevitable.

It's brilliantly acted and well scripted. The pace is slow but filled with mounting intensity. The film holds its breath, never spilling into melodrama, but holding in an enormous sense of tension and conflict, thus creating a direct line of empathy for the situation of the main characters.

But it's not all doom and gloom, well it is all doom and gloom, but it examines that darkness at the place from which it emanates; love.

Poetic and sincere.