Here Is the Biggest Pile of Schmaltz You’ll See This Year

As a cinephile who has spent countless hours poring over the annals of cinema history and delving deep into the nuances of storytelling, I must say that “Here” left me feeling rather underwhelmed. Don’t get me wrong, I hold Tom Hanks and Robin Wright in high regard, and their chemistry is as palpable as ever onscreen. However, the fact that a Naugahyde sectional managed to steal the spotlight from these two titans of cinema is nothing short of miraculous!

As a movie enthusiast, I recently had the chance to review “Here,” a unique film that brings together Tom Hanks and Robin Wright for the first time since their iconic collaboration in “Forrest Gump.” Intriguingly, this onscreen reunion takes a backseat to an ordinary Naugahyde sectional, which becomes the room’s star player. The living space is well-appointed, offering a bay window overlooking a historic house and a mantelpiece that initially captivates our attention until the arrival of the television steals the spotlight.

Regardless of your personal opinion on the movie Forrest Gump, its recurring connections with notable historical events were intentionally used as a plot device. In contrast, Here presents everyday scenarios, but it struggles to avoid tying its characters to crucial moments in time. The most noticeable example is the Harrises, who are the only Black family living in their house and whose story revolves around discussions about police violence with their teenage son, a mother contracting COVID, and a father dying due to a flu pandemic after years of his wife’s concerns about his aviation hobby. Every narrative strand, including Richard (Hanks) and Margaret’s (Wright) journey from the 60s to the present day, is marred by awkward symbolism, implying that its characters are not living history but rather vessels for it. John Harter (Gwilym Lee) passes away in a pandemic after decades of his wife’s (Michelle Dockery) warnings about his aviation passion. Lee Beekman (David Fynn) invents a reclining chair that eventually becomes the “La-Z-Boy,” while his wife, Stella (Ophelia Lovibond), supports him throughout. The series also features characters such as Ben Franklin and dinosaurs.

This film aims to provide a multifaceted exploration of human life’s intricate tapestry. The film cleverly employs a unique stylistic device, reminiscent of McGuire’s comics, which creates windows into different time periods. These windows subtly illustrate similarities as basic as women cleaning or couples discussing house prices over the years. However, the movie seems to doubt that the authenticity of everyday life is captivating enough on its own. The central plot, focusing on the disillusionments that shape the lives of a growing resentful WWII veteran, Al (Paul Bettany), and his eldest child, Richard, relies on hackneyed tropes to depict dreams deferred. Both father and son are salesmen in the vein of Arthur Miller’s characters, with Richard abandoning his art school aspirations upon becoming pregnant with his girlfriend, Margaret, right after high school. He subsequently ventures into life insurance, becoming so financially cautious that the couple never own a home. They appear less like real people and more like characters in a tale about suburban stagnation, even down to Margaret lamenting she’s never been to Paris. They are the most fully-realized characters presented in the film.

Robert Zemeckis is a cinematic deity whose later works seem entangled in technological explorations, such as motion-capture performances (like “The Polar Express” and “Welcome to Marwen”) and 3D films (“The Walk”). These endeavors appeal primarily to dedicated fans who discern something I find elusive. Similar to Ang Lee and Francis Ford Coppola, Zemeckis appears captivated by the potential of technology to elevate cinema. Ironically, these technological advancements are often employed in narratives that lack coherence, engagement, or even move backward in time.

2024-10-31 20:53

Here Is the Biggest Pile of Schmaltz You’ll See This Year

Read More

Minority Mindset