Off the Map

The great thing about "Off the Map" is how beautifully it tells its simple story. It's about a family, mother (Joan Allen), father (Sam Elliott) and daughter named Bo who live completely by their own means, and well off the main road. Having not paid taxes on the little bit of money they make, an IRS agent (Jim True-Frost) comes to find them.

It really is just a character study, primarily about the daughter as she watches the interactions of the adults around her and what she really wants out of life, and about the IRS agent who learns about himself by meeting these people who live their life in a way he never realized.

It's an independent drama driven by a simple narrative and simple shots. The characters aren't all investigated as they probably should have been, and it does move very slowly. But for those who like sitting back and just observing characters, "Off the Map" is well done. I was particularly impressed by Jim True-Frost's performance, and the young Valentina De Angelis as Bo.

This is one of those films you can really lose yourself in. A woman is reminiscing about a time in the early seventies when she was 12 years old and her father was struck down with a bad dose of depression. First thing you notice is the amazing colours of New Mexico, the photography is stunning. Then there's the acting by Joan Allen, Sam Elliott and especially Valentina de Angelis which is sublime. The story is simple but heartbreaking and ocassionally very funny. When the film ends, like waking up after a beautiful dream, you'll long to keep that magical feeling for as long as possible. Not to be missed! (9/10)

"Off the Map" is an "old-fashioned" film that made me feel, in the immortal words of Frank Zappa, that it's f*cking great to be alive. This film took me to a place in my heart I haven't been since the wonderful Bill Forsyth ("Local Hero") faded from the movie-making scene. It is high time for humane, gentle, wholly original stories of people and places off the map (or in our technological dystopia, perhaps `off the radar screen' would be more appropriate) to fill our movie dreamscape again. New Mexico is the only place in the United States this could have been filmed because, indeed, only the Land of Enchantment could have fit this gorgeous, lyrical story so well.

There wasn't a single relationship in this film that wasn't unique and fully realized. We've seen these set-ups before: the school-girl crush of Bo for William Gibbs, the awe-inspired worship of William for Arlene, the friendship between Charley and George. But don't we always get the caricatures, the popcorn images that point out the woeful arrested development of our country and its mythmakers? We think we want to be young forever. But it takes a film like "Off the Map" to show us all the richness we're missing out on by not growing up. (And the casting and direction of this ensemble of actors was nothing short of genius, especially Joan Allen. It's nice someone can see her as something more than middle-class white bread and pull this very individualistic performance out of her.)

I'm feeling kind of emotional just thinking about some to the great scenes in this film: when Charley runs 20 miles to George's house and goads him into wrestling; when Charley and William talk about what it feels like to be depressed; when William watches Arlene standing naked in her garden watching the totemic coyote; when Bo extracts from George the information she needs to apply for a MasterCharge card; Arlene reading Bo's letter in the newspaper advice column; Bo thanking the squirrel for giving up its life to feed her and her family; George's presence, like an old pair of sneakers, in the Groden home.

Like I said before, I didn't think people made films like this anymore. Thank you, Campbell Scott, for proving me wrong.

When a married Arlene Groden (Joan Allen) tells her house guest, William Gibbs (Jim True-Frost), that although it's nice he's expressed his love for her, it can be accounted for by the power of New Mexico, I knew I would express my love for this understated, eccentric, and satisfying film. While the two male heroes, Gibbs and Arlene's husband, Charley (Sam Neill), are both depressed in the clinical sense, the film is not about depression but rather the forces of devotion and simplicity that keep these retro-hippies functioning in a remote world somewhere around Santa Fe, Taos, and El Paso.

Narrator Bo Groden (as adult, Amy Brenneman and as 12 year old, Valentina de Angelis) reminisces as an adult in voice-over about that 6 months of her father's immobilizing depression in the seventies and her own freedom in that pristine land where she could hunt, plink, and create without restriction. Bo is not a wild child but rather a home-schooled, precociously sensitive pre-teen who plans to leave here as soon as possible while she regularly receives gift packages from manufacturers whom she has threatened to sue over allegedly contaminated products. Her nonchalant but effective treatment of her father in his funks is one of the many acts that assure us she is quite capable of surviving anywhere. Director Campbell Scott's determination not to fill us with back stories on all the characters makes for an energetic exploration of the way they are at this time.

Gibbs, who came from the IRS to audit the family, stays 8 years, long enough to paint New Mexican landscapes of note. His friendship with Charley is true and good, despite that fact that Charley probably knows Gibbs loves Arlene. Charley asks him, "Ever been depressed?" William replies, "I've never not been." Out of his passion for the landscape comes his sanity and a renewed interest in life that he seemed to have lost with the suicide of his mother, for which he feels responsible.

"I am a damn crying machine," Charley says. You may end up crying as well, but only because not enough movies like this are made where insights into humanity are as abundant as the Groden's garden and their four years' supply of homemade canned goods. Lafcadio Hearn could have been describing the Grodens when he said, "It is only in the home-relations that people are true enough to each other, --and show what human nature is, the beauty of it, the divinity of it."

Worth watching, plain and simple.

I was torn somewhat between the precocious kid and the depressed dad. It was a little too much and yet the simple beauty of the New Mexico landscape offset their performance. A tighter conflict would have helped the pacing.

Everything seemed to balance itself out though, and most should find something to like about this movie.

I adore Joan Allen. She is built like a leading lady, looks, walks and talks like a leading lady yet is a great character actor as proved here. I had to look a little close to recognize her and I love that in great acting talent.

Sam Elliott, a veritable man's man, held steady. I think his effort was commendable though having been around persons afflicted with various types of depression, his seemed a bit vague, and uneven. It was like a functioning catatonia with bouts of chattering. I didn't get it. Since his mental illness was,in essence, the spine of the story, the spine was a bit bent. Still,handsome Sam is still watchable and worthy of our respect as he does not seem uncomfortable with his gray hairs or his wrinkles. Very anti-Hollywood.

Of the ensemble cast, I really enjoyed J.K. Simmons. Simmons who seems to have put most of the food on the table career-wise by playing nasties (especially in OZ) as well as disaffected authority figures, was refreshing as George, an everyman with a simpleness that was most enjoyable.

In closing, I think I would have liked the movie better if they had given proper treatment to the depressive issues affecting Charlie, Sam Elliott's character. Mental illness advocates might agree.

Still it was a bit like Walden Pond, New Mexico with more people.

Again, my criticisms aside, there is plenty to like about this. It's worth the time to watch this movie.