Cast: Luke Wilson, Radha Mitchell, Adriana Barraza, George Lopez
I seem to have developed something of a rebellious streak with regards my choice of films recently. After so many years of watching only the most critically acclaimed cinematic milestones (and the most ‘difficult-to-pronounce-in-their-original-language’ Michael Haneke films) my experience of ‘King of California’ has opened up a whole new world of lesser-known American ‘Indie’ films.
I was going to coin a phrase there – post-‘Indie’ – but as soon as you attach a prefix to this most ugly of words it begins to sound like you are referring to films inspired by a certain maverick archaeologist.
With my newfound adventurousness, and spurred on by the presence of a highly apathetic friend who ‘just wanted to watch whatever was on’, I decided to watch Luke Wilson’s ‘Henry Poole Is Here’. I attribute the film to Wilson because he is the only recognisable name on the project and, I am confident, was probably the only reason the project ever got off the ground.
This is the story of Henry Poole, a man who returns to his childhood neighbourhood to die in peace after he finds out he has a terminal disease. Needless to say… peace is one thing he certainly isn’t going to find!
The first antagonist is a well meaning, but headache inducing, Hispanic woman who finds the face of Christ in a damp patch on the wall of Henry’s new home. He is dismissive, but nothing can stop this stubborn old busybody from inviting her priest and half the Catholic diocese to pray before Henry’s stained stucco wall.
Add to this a naïve, Marx-loving check out girl who doesn’t understand why Henry buys so much alcohol if he isn’t having parties, and you have possibly the least peaceful passage to the afterlife since Rasputin.
But, of course, this is secretly just what Henry needs. He is a lonely creature who, we must assume, has run away from everything in his life. And if it weren’t for these nosy citizens he would have absolutely nothing to distract him from his impending death. Perhaps this is what friends are for… simply to distract us from the inevitable slipping away of time.
But none of these characters quite seem to fulfil the archetypal ‘saving grace’ that can draw Henry out of his depression and give him the fulfilling and visceral finale that every human deserves… queue the arrival of Radha Mitchell as the unfeasibly attractive ‘single-mum-next-door’.
What follows is an oddly interesting examination of Henry’s refusal to accept the miracles that keep occurring outside his house (it turns out it may actually be the Second Coming), and his need to release his fears and anxieties about dying.
This is certainly not the most original film you have ever seen – it is a coming-of-age story where the guy eventually gets the girl – but there is something oddly appealing about it. It is one of those films that keeps flashing back into your consciousness at weird moments, running down an escalator or ordering a drink at the bar.
I have been trying to work out what is so unique and appealing about this film, and I think it is the fact that it falls short of being a real ‘Indie’ film (for anyone who doesn’t know what I mean by ‘Indie’, just watch anything by Wes Anderson, David O. Russell, or Gus Van Sant).
By rights it should be the epitome of ‘Indie’ – it is a low(ish) budget American film set in suburban California and starring Luke Wilson – but it manages to be understated and subtle throughout.
I think that, in reality, the film hasn’t consciously subverted or avoided the tropes of American ‘Indie’ cinema… it has just fallen short of them. After all, this is only Luke – and not Owen – Wilson, and the writer and director are both first-timers. But even if that is the case, it doesn’t change the fact that the charm of this film is in its willingness to just go about its job of watching Henry, without pandering to the Sundance crowd.
The director, Mark Pellington, cut his teeth on U2 videos and tour DVDs… and you can really tell. Any director that actually uses Blur’s ‘Song 2’ as a non-diegetic song is surely ill advised to do so. It is his directorial touch that allows certain quirky ‘Indie’ tropes to enter into the aesthetic of the film, but fortunately his inexperience also seems to have limited his willingness to mess around with the script.
Wilson’s performance reflects perfectly what I have been trying to explain about the general feel of the film. After living in Owen’s shadow for so many years, this may have been his attempt at a career-changing leading role in a gritty drama. But if he has made any attempt to conjure up an award-worthy, reputation-shattering performance, he has failed. What he has succeeded in is creating a truly desperate and careless character that is worthy of all the pathos we can muster.
The thing that makes this film so appealing is the fact that it failed. It didn’t register at Sundance, it didn’t get a cinematic release, it didn’t launch the careers of its writer and director, and it hasn’t garnered any Oscars for Luke Wilson. But it did spend 99 minutes following a genuinely interesting cast of characters around their unassuming suburban neighbourhood… and that really is refreshing.
I seem to have developed something of a rebellious streak with regards my choice of films recently. After so many years of watching only the most critically acclaimed cinematic milestones (and the most ‘difficult-to-pronounce-in-their-original-language’ Michael Haneke films) my experience of ‘King of California’ has opened up a whole new world of lesser-known American ‘Indie’ films.
I was going to coin a phrase there – post-‘Indie’ – but as soon as you attach a prefix to this most ugly of words it begins to sound like you are referring to films inspired by a certain maverick archaeologist.
With my newfound adventurousness, and spurred on by the presence of a highly apathetic friend who ‘just wanted to watch whatever was on’, I decided to watch Luke Wilson’s ‘Henry Poole Is Here’. I attribute the film to Wilson because he is the only recognisable name on the project and, I am confident, was probably the only reason the project ever got off the ground.
This is the story of Henry Poole, a man who returns to his childhood neighbourhood to die in peace after he finds out he has a terminal disease. Needless to say… peace is one thing he certainly isn’t going to find!
The first antagonist is a well meaning, but headache inducing, Hispanic woman who finds the face of Christ in a damp patch on the wall of Henry’s new home. He is dismissive, but nothing can stop this stubborn old busybody from inviting her priest and half the Catholic diocese to pray before Henry’s stained stucco wall.
Add to this a naïve, Marx-loving check out girl who doesn’t understand why Henry buys so much alcohol if he isn’t having parties, and you have possibly the least peaceful passage to the afterlife since Rasputin.
But, of course, this is secretly just what Henry needs. He is a lonely creature who, we must assume, has run away from everything in his life. And if it weren’t for these nosy citizens he would have absolutely nothing to distract him from his impending death. Perhaps this is what friends are for… simply to distract us from the inevitable slipping away of time.
But none of these characters quite seem to fulfil the archetypal ‘saving grace’ that can draw Henry out of his depression and give him the fulfilling and visceral finale that every human deserves… queue the arrival of Radha Mitchell as the unfeasibly attractive ‘single-mum-next-door’.
What follows is an oddly interesting examination of Henry’s refusal to accept the miracles that keep occurring outside his house (it turns out it may actually be the Second Coming), and his need to release his fears and anxieties about dying.
This is certainly not the most original film you have ever seen – it is a coming-of-age story where the guy eventually gets the girl – but there is something oddly appealing about it. It is one of those films that keeps flashing back into your consciousness at weird moments, running down an escalator or ordering a drink at the bar.
I have been trying to work out what is so unique and appealing about this film, and I think it is the fact that it falls short of being a real ‘Indie’ film (for anyone who doesn’t know what I mean by ‘Indie’, just watch anything by Wes Anderson, David O. Russell, or Gus Van Sant).
By rights it should be the epitome of ‘Indie’ – it is a low(ish) budget American film set in suburban California and starring Luke Wilson – but it manages to be understated and subtle throughout.
I think that, in reality, the film hasn’t consciously subverted or avoided the tropes of American ‘Indie’ cinema… it has just fallen short of them. After all, this is only Luke – and not Owen – Wilson, and the writer and director are both first-timers. But even if that is the case, it doesn’t change the fact that the charm of this film is in its willingness to just go about its job of watching Henry, without pandering to the Sundance crowd.
The director, Mark Pellington, cut his teeth on U2 videos and tour DVDs… and you can really tell. Any director that actually uses Blur’s ‘Song 2’ as a non-diegetic song is surely ill advised to do so. It is his directorial touch that allows certain quirky ‘Indie’ tropes to enter into the aesthetic of the film, but fortunately his inexperience also seems to have limited his willingness to mess around with the script.
Wilson’s performance reflects perfectly what I have been trying to explain about the general feel of the film. After living in Owen’s shadow for so many years, this may have been his attempt at a career-changing leading role in a gritty drama. But if he has made any attempt to conjure up an award-worthy, reputation-shattering performance, he has failed. What he has succeeded in is creating a truly desperate and careless character that is worthy of all the pathos we can muster.
The thing that makes this film so appealing is the fact that it failed. It didn’t register at Sundance, it didn’t get a cinematic release, it didn’t launch the careers of its writer and director, and it hasn’t garnered any Oscars for Luke Wilson. But it did spend 99 minutes following a genuinely interesting cast of characters around their unassuming suburban neighbourhood… and that really is refreshing.
Posts
No comments :
Post a Comment