Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Film Review: "That Evening Sun"

Directed by Scott Teems
Starring Hal Holbrook, Mia Wasikowska, Carrie Preston, Raymond McKinnon
USA; Cannes market screening; Southern Drama; 109 minutes

Consider for a moment where in your life you place the greatest value. Go ahead, think about it. Is it you career? Or perhaps is it your family: your parents, your spouse or your children? Now, imagine that this most coveted and treasured aspect of your life is taken away from you. Such is the plight of Abner Meecham, the 80-something star of Scott Teams southern gothic drama “That Evening Sun.”

Abner, facing many of the difficulties associated with living alone at a mature age, is placed in an assisted living facility by his son. Quickly becoming unhappy and longing for the comforts of independent living, Abner escapes from the home and returns to his own, a farm in rural Tennessee. Upon his return, however, he is stunned to discover that his son has seemingly betrayed him by leasing the farm to Lonzo Choat, nothing more than an alcoholic red neck in Abner’s eyes. Being old and set in his ways, Abner refuses to accept the situation, so he moves into the old sharecropper’s residence on the property. A vicious power struggle ensues.

Set in rural Tennessee, this film’s aesthetic strength will strike viewers right from the start of the film. Wide shots of the landscape, coupled with close ups of objects associated with daily life on the farm, portray the rustic but charming qualities of the scene.

The director’s ability to showcase the grand scale of the land while also focusing on small details showcases the beauty and importance of the land to the film’s main characters, Abner and Lonzo. Although these men disagree on so many levels, they both share a deep appreciation for one core value in particular: land ownership. Abner wants this piece of land because he has worked his whole life to earn it. It’s the one thing he has left, and the last remaining tie he has to his deceased wife. Lonzo wants the land because he feels that by acquiring it he will prove himself as a husband, a father, and a man in society. These deeply rooted passions are what create the deep hate and resentment these men have toward each other.

One of the film’s greatest strength lies in its lead actor, Hal Holbrook, and his extraordinary ability to relate the film to viewers through his portrayal of Abner. We all know—or at least we’ve met—someone like Abner. He has a tough outer shell, but he is soft on the inside and shows an unexpected amount of heart. Holbrook gives a meaty but tender performance, an effortless balance between jackass and knight in shining armor.

There are several scenes in the film where Abner interacts with Lonzo’s daughter, and in each I witnessed an authentic exchange that plays itself out much like conversations I’ve had with my own grandfather. Abner gripes and complains, carrying on about the shortcomings of today’s youth, but he also offers positive advice and encouragement, revealing that companionate inner core. While these interactions do nothing to advance the plot of the film, they’re important for the development of the individual characters, and they build a sense of nostalgia in viewers for their own families.

Holbrook is also able to offer bits of much appreciated humor to the film. Most of these entertaining moments are delivered through actions his character Abner takes to infuriate Lonzo. Upon learning from his daughter that Lonzo hates dogs, Abner goes and finds one for himself. He even takes the time to train the animal to bark when he issues the command, “hush.” Even after Lonzo kills the animal and strings him up on Abner’s porch, he takes the body to the taxidermist and places the stuffed dog on his porch, just to spite Lonzo. Scenarios like these, and Abner’s numerous stabs at himself about being an old man, bring light to this dark drama.

The use of suspense and rising conflict create a tension in the film as dense as the humid Tennessee air. Let me paint a picture for you. It’s late, and the only audible sound is the constant dull hum of cicadas. We hear the shifting of gravel on the driveway, and soon Lonzo’s daughter arrives home with a boy we know her father openly disapproves. Lonzo storms out of the house, attacking the young man and chasing him off the property. Then he turns on his own daughter, beating her with the metal tip of a garden hose. When her mother steps in to help, she receives the brunt of his rage as well. Suddenly we hear a gunshot and see that Abner has come out of his home to protect the women. He and Lonzo face off, staring each other down as if their lives depended on it. The brutality of the violence and the intensity of the situation transports viewers right onto the farm and into the middle of the action.

This interaction brings forth another important theme in the film: commitment. Lonzo is committed to his family. Abner is committed to traditional values and maintaining his land. Lonzo’s wife is committed to her husband, and she stands up for his dignity when it is brought into question by Abner. All of these sentiments hold true with the southern gothic feel of the film, painting a clear picture of the way of life in rural Tennessee.

A critique of American culture is offered by “That Evening Sun” in its presentation of how children treat their parents in their older age. Throughout the course of the film, viewers come to love and sympathize with Abner, and they are left to wonder how his son could have betrayed him so deeply. With that said, far too often in America today the elderly population is disregarded as worthless and burdensome, and, in cases like Abner’s, they are sent away to retirement communities. A good film brings issues to light that need to be addressed. A great film makes us question ourselves and the ways that we operate in society. This film, in my mind, does the latter.

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