Directed By Florian Zeller

Starring – Anthony Hopkins, Olivia Colman, Mark Gatiss

The Plot – A troubled man (Hopkins) refuses all assistance from his daughter (Colman) as he ages. As he tries to make sense of his changing circumstances, he begins to doubt his loved ones, his own mind and even the fabric of his reality.

Rated PG-13 for some strong adult language, and thematic material

THE FATHER | Official Trailer (2020) – YouTube

POSITIVES

– Immersive quality. Being that this is a story centering around one man’s plight with Alzheimer’s Disease, and how that condition can frightfully humble him, Zeller’s risky decision to disjoint his film and storytelling as much as possible for the sake of authenticity is one that pays off immensely in articulating what its victims deal with daily. In fact, the entirety of the film is told from Hopkins’ perspective, so along the way we see characters move in and out of setting without explanation, set designs changing in both decoration and color, and jumbled dialogue that intentionally contradicts what is established visually in the forefront of this picture. It gives the film a confusing, yet fruitful depiction of mental frailty, often making us the audience question if what we’re seeing is in fact reality or just another figment in this victim’s perception. It offers a synthetic spin that audiences can comprehend and learn from without defacing the value of the picture, and makes this a film that is every bit important as it is entertaining.

– Respectful care. Because this is a film that occasionally flirts with comedic tones from time to time, it would be easier for Zeller to lose control of his direction in a way that is unintentionally distracting and insensitive to those riddled by the condition. Thankfully, his commentary in material services a greater meaning than just one of entertainment value, all the while conjuring up no shortage of emotional diversity seen through the angles of many different characters whom Hopkins comes to interact with. This is the most honest example of the movie’s various depictions, because they aren’t always the caring and empathetic side of human response, with Rufus Sewell’s character constantly bothered with having to endure shaping his life around Hopkins. It presents a revealing side to humanity that isn’t always glossed over by sentimentality for the convenience of a feel good narrative, raising awareness in a manner that only plays into the helpless isolation that many are saddled with.

– Sharp direction. Even in a film that doesn’t cater to the necessity of style to equal its dramatic substance, there’s still an abundance of personality behind Cinematographer Ben Smithard’s alluring compositions that plays into the moody experience. Smithard’s use of long takes, especially during meticulous close up sequences, allows us to soak up as much about the cold, desolate environment that this condition has come to define. Likewise, the still-frame execution of facial registries pays off immensely in capturing the interior feelings that many characters are hiding for a variety of reasons, presenting a glimpse into the soul that doesn’t always reflect what is being deposited in the integrity of the scene. In addition to this, the soft lighting offers an enveloping quality to the darkness and shadows that surrounds everything persisting in frame, playing into the plaguing atmosphere that thickly sticks with us through 93 minutes of emotional resonation.

– Stage structure. This is both in the long-winded exchanges of some unedited dialogue, which values considerably to your investment to the film, and the consistency of a one location setting that plays into an ever-increasing quality to contemporary adaptations. Since this is another film adapted from the stage, it once again burns through seven or eight long take sequences that make up the entirety of the film. This may be straineous on the pacing for some, but I’ve consistently enjoyed this aspect in films like “Fences” or “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom”, because of the submersion familiarity of film that often distorts the realistic elements of what life and the stage simultaneously emit. Because of such, there was never a time I was bored by the film, nor felt tested for where the payoff was headed. It preserves importance to every single one of the experiences that properly define the condition, and makes this a bittersweet slice of life that isn’t always the easiest pill to swallow.

– Key players. I expected the work of Hopkins and Colman to be emotionally stirring and attention stealing, but I was shocked that there’s even supporting characters like Imogen Poots or Rufus Sewell who earn reputable praise in the evolution of this very intimate portrait of mental frailty. Sewell capitalizes on the villainous turn that made him a face to watch in Amazon’s “The Man In the High Castle”, albeit with a much more layered approach that never overburdens or takes away from the integrity in evolutions that Zeller articulates. On the subject of Hopkins and Colman, their work is nothing short of mesmerizing, outlining a father/daughter connection that is every bit believable as it is magnetic for how these two play off of each other. Colman’s frustrating dilemma of holding onto the man she loves versus living a life of her own casts an immense weight on her shoulders that comes across in her suffocated demeanor. She often rides a wave of emotional complexity that evolves with each passing scene, outlining a character arc that is just as important as Hopkins. Speaking of which, Anthony steals the show with his best work in decades, stirring ingredients of confusion, delirium, and even anger to his role as Anthony (Not making that up). The victimization comes across in his portrayal, but not enough to render the character indisposed. Instead, Hopkins familiarity in charisma is still very much on display, adding a traumatic element to his adversity that occasionally offers glimpses of the man his family knew and loved.

– Musical impulse. There’s a satisfying blend of orchestral compositions used throughout composer Ludovico Einaudi’s audible captivation to channel the various degrees of emotional transition that the story takes us through. After his disappointing work on “Nomadland”, I feel like this is a welcomed return to form for Einaudi, whose meticulous piano and strings work wonders on many of the dark and moody resonance of the film’s material. In particular, it’s his work during the second act, where certain elements don’t line up for Anthony, that harvests an almost horror enveloping to the enhancements, and registered a terrifying chill down my spine that really empathized with Anthony’s unraveling predicament on reality. The volume levels are respectable without intruding or meandering on the work of a gifted ensemble cast, and periodically picks its moments to summarize much of the trivial decay in Anthony’s mentality.

– The bigger picture. As with most films with an unorthodox structure and metaphorical stance at a meaningful topic, “The Father” too invests in a collection of scattered pieces that will eventually provide a bigger picture within the context of the film. It rewards audiences paying attention to a series of incidents that might seem irrelevant or forgettable initially within the mind of this inconsistent protagonist of sorts, and magnetically eases them into one another by film’s end, once the clarity of the scheme has been fully realized. What’s most important is that this spontaneity of various pieces and incidents isn’t even remotely confusing once it’s pieced together, nor is it spoon-fed in clumsy exposition in a way that holds the hand of the audience it has no faith in to piece together.

– Realistic dialogue. I would be interested to know how much of Zeller’s script here was improvised by the actors themselves, and how much remained faithful to the integrity of the stage play. I say that because so much of the interactions and conversations between characters, especially that of Hopkins to Colman, feels enriched with a grounded level of transitioning and personality that remains faithful to their respective characters. This is really the lone element for me that kept me invested throughout a majority of the picture, because this is very much a dialogue-driven film, and it’s something that Zeller clearly takes his time fleshing out so that every single line feels like it pertains intentionally to what each character is experiencing mentally at any given time. It’s screenwriting that doesn’t feel like it gift-wraps a series of plot points for the easiest way out, and instead takes its time for the thematic evolutions that eventually materialize in ways that breed that sentiment of life; one moment at a time.

– Materially terrifying. Films like this and “Relic” resonate more profoundly for me than intentionally fantastical horror films ever could. I say that because Zeller zeroes in on an inevitability for all of us with parents that seeps under the skin of the audience, and really drives the vulnerability of this story in ways that everyone can digest and take reluctance with. In particular for me was the ending, where (Without spoiling) the final ten minutes of this movie is every bit gut-wrenching for Anthony as it is insurmountable for Colman. It’s the moment of clarity where the wool is finally pulled from off of our eyes, and we see matters for how dark and depressing they truly are, a statement that isn’t a spoiler in itself because of the depths this movie goes in conveying the sense of physical and emotional discontent that plagues our protagonist.

My Grade: 10/10 or A+