Mickey and the Bear
4/4
Starring: Camila Morrone, James Badge Dale, Calvin Demba, Rebecca Henderson, Ben Rosenfield
Rated R for Substance Abuse, Language Throughout and Some Sexual Material
"Mickey and the Bear" has a keen sense of place, and that's what gives the film its energy. Annabelle Attanasio does such a good job of creating rural, small town Montana that it allows the ordinary characters and their situations to come to life. This is a place where kids start smoking in high school, college aspirations are rare, being engaged or pregnant at the end of high school is not scandalous and people stay where they are. Attanasio doesn't judge her characters or shame them. Rather, she creates a reality, and with that in place, what might seem boring and pointless takes on an uncommon level of poignance and empathy.
Mickey (Morrone) has just turned eighteen. She has a normal life in her small Montana town. Her boyfriend Aron (Rosenfield) has plans for their future that she doesn't seem too enthusiastic about. She finds another student, Wyatt (Demba), more intriguing than Aron, who lacks the vision and the desire to leave his cocoon-like existence. Mickey, on the other hand, years to get out. But she has one very important thing holding her back: her father, Hank (Dale).
These characters feel lived in right from the get go. It's as if Attanasio had taken a snapshot of a crucial few days of their lives. She doesn't immediately define her characters and their purpose in the story, instead allowing them to reveal such things as their lives unfold. We understand fairly early that Hank is addicted to booze and pills, although it doesn't become apparent until later just how sick he is. And while Aron loves Mickey, or thinks he does, he's too immature and locked in place for Mickey.
Attanasio's handling of addiction is perceptive. She's sensitive to the way that it isn't a "problem" that must be "overcome" by the third act, but a reality. Mickey knows that Hank is sick, but she also knows that his withdrawals are worse, and does the best she can to make it through the day. It's happened before, but she knows what to do. And her troubles with Aron aren't "crises" but new developments that she has to respond to. This is a slice of life drama, and she treats it as such. In a way, I was reminded of "Requiem for a Dream" and especially "Once Were Warriors," although this film lacks the intensity and in-your-face style of those films. It isn't that kind of movie anyway.
I've been one to trumpet the talents of James Badge Dale from time to time. He's a character actor who shows up in supporting roles (he was Barrigan in "The Departed" and Armie Hammer's brother in "The Lone Ranger" dud, for example) and has an ability to steal every scene he's in. Even when he's with some of Hollywood's best talent. He walked away with "Flight" with only about two minutes of screen time. I've been hoping that he'd get the recognition that he so richly deserves, but after his performance as Hank, I've lost my patience. He should have gotten a long overdue Oscar nomination, and perhaps a win. He's that good. Hank is your classic addict: prone to trouble, is obnoxious when he thinks he's funny, and able to hold himself together when he has the balance of pills and booze just right. But he's also unpredictable to the point where we never know how he's going to act from one minute to the next. You get the sense that a sober Hank would be a nice enough guy, as there is a sense that there is a good man underneath. But he is definitely a volatile individual.
As brilliant as Dale is, he isn't the focal point of the film. He's strictly supporting. The film belongs to Camila Morrone, who doesn't have as flashy of a role, but is just as good. Her relationship with Hank is not healthy, but she does what needs to be done. She gets annoyed when he needs money she made, but she also knows that Hank in withdrawal is much worse so she cuts her losses. That he sometimes hallucinates that she's her deceased mother is just one reason why she is wary bringing her boyfriends around. No wonder she wants to get out, but that would mean leaving Hank on his own, and there is no one else to care for him. Morrone never strikes a false note in her performance because she plays it naturally. She never reaches for effect or "acts" in the conventional sense. She's the everygirl.
In reality, not much happens in this movie. That's actually what makes it so great. Nothing is out of the ordinary, but the characters are seen with such specificity and empathy that we become engaged with them. Our sympathies align with them. Just because none of these characters can change the world doesn't mean the stakes aren't high. For them, breaking out of their existence is much more important than taking down Thanos. And it is for us too.
Starring: Camila Morrone, James Badge Dale, Calvin Demba, Rebecca Henderson, Ben Rosenfield
Rated R for Substance Abuse, Language Throughout and Some Sexual Material
"Mickey and the Bear" has a keen sense of place, and that's what gives the film its energy. Annabelle Attanasio does such a good job of creating rural, small town Montana that it allows the ordinary characters and their situations to come to life. This is a place where kids start smoking in high school, college aspirations are rare, being engaged or pregnant at the end of high school is not scandalous and people stay where they are. Attanasio doesn't judge her characters or shame them. Rather, she creates a reality, and with that in place, what might seem boring and pointless takes on an uncommon level of poignance and empathy.
Mickey (Morrone) has just turned eighteen. She has a normal life in her small Montana town. Her boyfriend Aron (Rosenfield) has plans for their future that she doesn't seem too enthusiastic about. She finds another student, Wyatt (Demba), more intriguing than Aron, who lacks the vision and the desire to leave his cocoon-like existence. Mickey, on the other hand, years to get out. But she has one very important thing holding her back: her father, Hank (Dale).
These characters feel lived in right from the get go. It's as if Attanasio had taken a snapshot of a crucial few days of their lives. She doesn't immediately define her characters and their purpose in the story, instead allowing them to reveal such things as their lives unfold. We understand fairly early that Hank is addicted to booze and pills, although it doesn't become apparent until later just how sick he is. And while Aron loves Mickey, or thinks he does, he's too immature and locked in place for Mickey.
Attanasio's handling of addiction is perceptive. She's sensitive to the way that it isn't a "problem" that must be "overcome" by the third act, but a reality. Mickey knows that Hank is sick, but she also knows that his withdrawals are worse, and does the best she can to make it through the day. It's happened before, but she knows what to do. And her troubles with Aron aren't "crises" but new developments that she has to respond to. This is a slice of life drama, and she treats it as such. In a way, I was reminded of "Requiem for a Dream" and especially "Once Were Warriors," although this film lacks the intensity and in-your-face style of those films. It isn't that kind of movie anyway.
I've been one to trumpet the talents of James Badge Dale from time to time. He's a character actor who shows up in supporting roles (he was Barrigan in "The Departed" and Armie Hammer's brother in "The Lone Ranger" dud, for example) and has an ability to steal every scene he's in. Even when he's with some of Hollywood's best talent. He walked away with "Flight" with only about two minutes of screen time. I've been hoping that he'd get the recognition that he so richly deserves, but after his performance as Hank, I've lost my patience. He should have gotten a long overdue Oscar nomination, and perhaps a win. He's that good. Hank is your classic addict: prone to trouble, is obnoxious when he thinks he's funny, and able to hold himself together when he has the balance of pills and booze just right. But he's also unpredictable to the point where we never know how he's going to act from one minute to the next. You get the sense that a sober Hank would be a nice enough guy, as there is a sense that there is a good man underneath. But he is definitely a volatile individual.
As brilliant as Dale is, he isn't the focal point of the film. He's strictly supporting. The film belongs to Camila Morrone, who doesn't have as flashy of a role, but is just as good. Her relationship with Hank is not healthy, but she does what needs to be done. She gets annoyed when he needs money she made, but she also knows that Hank in withdrawal is much worse so she cuts her losses. That he sometimes hallucinates that she's her deceased mother is just one reason why she is wary bringing her boyfriends around. No wonder she wants to get out, but that would mean leaving Hank on his own, and there is no one else to care for him. Morrone never strikes a false note in her performance because she plays it naturally. She never reaches for effect or "acts" in the conventional sense. She's the everygirl.
In reality, not much happens in this movie. That's actually what makes it so great. Nothing is out of the ordinary, but the characters are seen with such specificity and empathy that we become engaged with them. Our sympathies align with them. Just because none of these characters can change the world doesn't mean the stakes aren't high. For them, breaking out of their existence is much more important than taking down Thanos. And it is for us too.
Comments
Post a Comment