Retratos de Família

Junebug Reviewed by Sam Osborn of www.samseescinema.com

Rating: 3.5 out of 4

There's a magic to Junebug that's nearly impossible to describe with words. To explain it literally would be to describe a slow, mundane, and worthless story. But, of course, there's much more to Junebug than a story that's slow, mundane and worthless. Iconic independent director Phil Morrison's film takes a patient and immersive look at small town life. There's a profound harmony at work between the characters that, from my experience with small town family in relatives' homes, seems to be true to reality. All at once each character is happy and unhappy with their situation and with everyone surrounding them. There's pain, but within the pain is deep-rooted happiness and content. And when a foreigner enters the home as new family, we the audience are meant to take the foreigner's perspective.

After meeting George (Alessandro Nivola) at her art gallery's auction, Madeleine (Embeth Davidtz) finds herself married to the man after little over a week. Months later she travels into a rural suburbia of South Carolina to meet with the peculiar and absurdly profound artist David Wark (Frank Hoyt Taylor), and also to meet for the first time her new family. Unfamiliar with the family's southern lifestyle, she enters the house with the open mind unique only to artists. Immediately embraced by the lonely Ashley (Amy Adams), whose relationship to Johnny (Benjamin McKenzie) has yielded a seemingly unhappy pregnancy and lonely marriage, Madeleine is equally repelled by the mother and leader of the household, Peg (Celia Weston). Each couple (the parents, Ashley and Johnny, and Madeleine and George) sleeps in a separate room, divided only by paper thin walls that do little to contain sound, making nights into festivals of eavesdropping. The unborn baby, Junebug, has a room all to herself, seeming to hold all hope that is left for happiness in the family.

In most films where a foreigner enters a deep-rooted household, the story usually loses itself with the dramatic changes the foreigner brings. But Phil Morrison thankfully avoids this cliché and instead lets our foreigner simply observe. There's actually a sequence dedicated entirely to the observation of each room in the home, where we, like the foreigner, are meant to find all the charming nuances of the house's decoration. Meticulous details are fully realized, with the placement of the cigarettes, the oddly shaped and colored lampshades, the material of the couches, and every tiny element of this lifestyle that may be new to all us "city folk." The foreigner actually has as little power over the family as the audience does. Instead of her acting as the catalyst for the family's change, the title character, Junebug, who's kicking and growing within Ashley's stomach holds this power. It's an affective storytelling method that allows us to connect with the foreigner, Madeleine, and consequently, find ourselves immersed further into Junebug's intimate tale.

In a story as quiet and intimate as Junebug, it's imperative that body language plays as much a role as dialogue. The cast must exude emotions past words and extend their skills to inhabit their characters completely. Each actor achieves this rare performance, particularly Amy Adams and Benjamin McKenzie, playing Ashley and Johnny. Their marriage has a unique understanding to it that's difficult for the audience to grasp until the end. But when we realize their situation, the nuances of their performances are blissfully revealed.

Conventional laws of cinema rarely allow small town life to be realistically portrayed. The calm, resonating harmony that resides in the lifestyle doesn't offer much in the way of excitement. I suppose it requires the confidence of an independent distributor and the eye and pen of a wonderful director and screenwriter. Phil Morrison and Angus MacLachlan's collaboration here with Junebug offers up this unique portrait with nothing but extreme and satisfying clarity.

-Sam Osborn of www.samseescinema.com

A very intelligent script, with direction that does it justice. Rather than spelling out exactly what we're supposed to be thinking and feeling at every moment, the filmmakers respect the audience's ability to infer meaning from the mood and tone, from the light in a frame or the ambient noise of a scene (or, for that matter, from the complete silence in which we occasionally are allowed to contemplate the house and small town where the story is set). As for the actors, they must have been thrilled to have the chance to play such complex, well-rounded characters, each of them at times being fine and even something like noble, at other times frustrating and perhaps even cruel. Just like real people, in other words. Amy Adams deserves the praise she's received for a role that could have easily been a caricature, but I'd like to also mention Embeth Davidtz for her precise and empathetic work in another part that might have easily been done in a hackneyed way.

All through this film, there are moments where we fear that its makers are going to settle for the cliché, but they never do. By the end, we feel that we've learned a great deal about the characters and the community which produced them, and we also sense that we'll never fully grasp all of their mysteries and contradictions. Very fine work from everyone involved.

Madeleine (Embeth Davidtz) is a successful Chicago dealer of outsider art. She has a trip to see an artist and takes the opportunity to meet her husband George (Alessandro Nivola)'s family 30 minutes away in North Carolina. His mother Peg (Celia Weston) is bossy and his father Eugene (Scott Wilson) is quiet. His younger brother Johnny (Benjamin McKenzie) is a resentful loser with flighty pregnant wife Ashley (Amy Adams). Ashley intends to name the baby Junebug.

It's very odd to realize that Amy Adams is not the lead actress because she's the main thing I remember about this film. She's a complete whirlwind overpowering everybody and everything. She's crazy hilarious with every facial expression and desperate neediness. The other takeaway for me back then was that Benjamin McKenzie can reasonably act. Watching again, Amy Adams is still hilarious and her energy really drives the movie. Director Phil Morrison's style is quiet indie. It probably could have helped to work more towards Amy Adams' quirky tone.

I've enjoyed reading a few of the "loved it" ratings and a few of the 'hated it" ratings of movies I've seen recently...and find myself able to agree with aspects of both. The "haters" here complain this movie is slow, plot less and stereotypes Southerners. Some of that is true...this is definitely a character study, slice-of-life, indie film. Some viewers look forward to that, and are pleased when everything including the kitchen sink is not forced into a script.

The strength of this film is the interface between characters. I found them quirkily individual enough to be believable. Amy Adams positively inhabits the role of a strong, faithful, but childish, young mother, and her interactions with an intellectual, worldly, professional sister-in-law are touching, and funny. The interactions between the controlling Southern mother with her silent but wise husband and her redneck son are credible and well enough written. Also, there is a somewhat crazy, but highly inspired visionary artist....and that is a frightening and accurate portrayal.

Unfortunately, there are character inconsistencies, and the film does seem to linger in the sadder aspects of the story more than I would've liked, especially for a movie whose comic bits were so strongly done. It is not a broad comedy, but an investigation of goals and faith done through a brilliant cast who make you chuckle. Afterwards, the humor and heartache portrayed by Amy Adams' character is so wonderfully written and acted, I wished for a whole film just about her.

After viewing "Junebug" for the second time, I have concluded that the film contains a darker theme just beneath the surface of light-hearted humor and gentle parody. Throughout the film, there are occasional shots of empty rooms, silent streets and dark woods that are at odds with the message conveyed by the action. Generally, we are treated to contrasting images: a room filled with people is followed by a shot of the same room, empty and silent. A church parking lot devoid of people followed by the same scene filled with noise and celebration. The dark woods beyond the deck appear sinister. I got the distinct feeling that the filmmaker wished to suggest that the laughter and interaction of this family was a fragile veneer. Just beneath the surface was a terrible emptiness that could not be disguised by gaudy art, wood paneling and the celebration of family rituals. Although the majority of this wonderful film gave a warm and affectionate treatment of this Southern family, these brief images of silence and emptiness are like teasing glimpses of "the skull beneath the flesh." Did anyone else get the same reaction?