Directed By Amy Koppelman

Starring – Amanda Seyfried, Finn Wittrock, Britt Robertson

The Plot – Julie Davis (Seyfried) writes bestselling children’s books about unlocking your fears, but has yet to unlock her own. When her daughter is born, that trauma is brought to the fore, and with it, a crushing battle to survive.

Rated R for adult language

A MOUTHFUL OF AIR – Official Trailer (HD) | Exclusively in Movie Theaters October 29 – YouTube

POSITIVES

– Candid depiction. As someone who suffers from clinical depression and nearly all forms of social anxiety, I found this a refreshing opportunity to tell an ages old psychological ailing that is unfortunately rarely captured in mainstream cinema. Being that this is a mostly biographical effort from Koppelman herself, who also wrote the book that the movie is based on, there’s a rich sense of knowledge dispersed on the audience that pertains to not just the protagonist’s jarring experience in her everyday life, but also in the value and appreciation of those surrounding her, and how they’re forced to view something that they truly don’t understand. Because of such, Koppelman supplants tender care and much-needed awareness in her directorial debut, fleshing out the condition with a combination of internal psychology and external experience that keeps audiences gripped on the pins and needles of unpredictability, all the while under the lens of this intimate portrait of self-helplessness.

– Gripping ensemble. Both the leads and the surprising additions of the supporting cast add to a rich indulgence of authenticity that takes these characters, and makes them feel like living, breathing entities in the confinement of this story. Such a noble comparison is with Seyfried, who not only hands in the best dramatic work of her entire career, but also balances Julie with a domination of frailty over calmness that fruitfully bares the baggage of the character’s tortured past, giving us a victim who has survived but at such a cost along the way. Finn Wittrock is also endearing, even with the lack of material his character is given in comparison to Seyfried’s. The chemistry between them feels very lived in and weathered from the ghost of sunnier, more passionate days between them, but it’s clear that Wittrock is the gentle hand of understanding, who too has broad shoulders to supplant such continuous blows. Beyond the duo of leads, there’s also nourishing appearances from Amy Irving, Britt Robertson, Jennifer Carpenter, and even the great Paul Giamatti, whose witty charm and earnest demeanor provided my very favorite scenes of the movie.

– Candid aesthetic. Where I feel Koppelman supplants a visionary’s touch to the film is in the warmth of her depiction, with the balance of Frank G. Demarco’s heartfelt coloring pallet, and cerebral photography being displayed at her disposal. Because the imagery we’re presented is told through a handheld scheme of the lens, there’s an immersive quality to the experience that casts us front and center in the middle of the family’s constant social conflicts, allowing us to interpret all of the awkwardness and uneasiness that fully fleshes out the stakes for the despair. In addition, the glowing appeal of the aforementioned color correction prescribes a hint of optimism to the engagement that periodically peeks in through the windows and blinds of the family’s inviting homefront, creating a glowing intoxication for the presentation that only further isolates the displacement of the protagonist’s unrelenting diagnosis.

– Authentic captivity. How do you articulate a condition that is happening internally? You appreciate the schemes of a rampant editing consistency, as well as an absorbing sound design, which vividly paints an evolving echoing that distorts reality before our very eyes. What’s important here is that the cutting, while intentionally rampant in its consistency, doesn’t become a chore to visually interpret, keeping us firmly in the investment of the moment, which grows darker because of the swiftness of its abrasiveness. As for the sound, the inclusion of heavy breathing and a chorus of environmental voices persists like a smothering blanket of inescapable panic, growing louder and intense with every passing second, while playing into the correspondence of the visuals, to which Seyfried is uncomfortably terrified thanks in whole to some exceptional facial acting on her part. It coherently illustrates how quick a situation can change for its captors at any given second, and is the single most faithful aspect of depiction for the condition that I have ever seen put to film.

– Fluid exposition. Much of the naturalistic quality of the film doesn’t deviate from the progression of its interaction, attaining with it a conveyance of information that goes a long way in rewarding the audience’s investment to the engagement. Instead of various hand-holding that seems like all of the rave by today’s standards of cinema, the interaction between the forefront couple feels ingrained in the kind of subtleties and nuance that harvests believability, and the passage of key events and history that is delivered with an air of underlining regret in their deposits. It leads to a complete lack of predictability that kept me from telegraphing matters even an hour before they materialized, which in turn further enhanced my indulgence factor into the dynamic of the exchanged words, to which the movie values immensely.

NEGATIVES

– Unnecessary inclusions. It’s unfortunate that a movie with so much authenticity is marred by a storytelling device and corresponding artistic direction that distracts its audience during the worst times imaginable. For starters, this story is told through a non-linear storytelling device, transitioning between future and present in a way that painfully and constantly overcomplicates matters with these sporadic cuts that seem to happen at any given time throughout. This not only temporarily confused me to the point that I had to remind myself where we were at with one arc while remembering where we were with another, but I also felt it took too much time away from the cadence and nuanced appeal of the Seyfriend and Wittrock storyline that I was mostly enjoying with the passage of time being spent with them. On top of this, there are these child-drawing animations that spontaneously pop up into the movie’s presentation, and add nothing of meaning or merit to what they’re accommodating. While the drawings are very good, and capture a childlike innocence that alludes to many kids being born with the same condition, they take too much away from the focus of the narrative, and distort clarity from Julie’s internal registry during the moments the audience needs it the most.

– Surface level delve. While I appreciated the opportunity for a mainstream film to commit itself to exploring the perils and traits of the condition, the insightful measure of the film goes mostly unexplored for even ignorant audiences who never chose to educate themselves on matters not pertaining to them. The abundance of information and exposition throughout felt very surface level, being at most like an inferior adaptation to its ground-breaking novel, and at least a Wikipedia summarization of condensed exploration. For my money, Koppelman as a screenwriter could’ve done more in outlining a sociological forecast that transcends far beyond Julie’s intimate situation, and even given the film a responsible outlook for treatment and resolution that goes far beyond just her needing to take her medicine.

– Underutilized arc. When typing up the plot synopsis above, I always try to be as ambiguous as possible, so as to not spoil any key details with reveals in the progression of the film. With that said, everything contained in that paragraph is basically all you need to know about this particular arc to Julie’s traumatic backstory, especially considering it becomes less important the longer the film progresses. The arc in question does reveal itself in the form of an effective flashback sequence at the end of the second act, but its necessity for inclusion doesn’t warrant any element of a meaningful resolution in the form or a growing-moment confrontation, nor benefit on the opportunity in tying it to the reason for Julie’s depression in the first place. Instead, I waited for a moment that never came, made all the more tragic when the opportunity presents itself in a reunion with the person who is the source for her past devastation.

– Parting impressions. The worst kinds of endings are the ones that not only confuse you in a way that completely jumbles the execution of their poignancy, but also ones that unresolve matters in a way that completely obliterates optimism from the spectrum. One could argue that the latter contributes to the authenticity of the engagement, because after all that is what depression is all about. But considering this is for fictional entertainment, I feel like the pulse of the second word never lives up to its end of the bargain, instead making for a self-indulgent and insufferable experience that isn’t sure to garner any rewatches as a result of a completely miserable experience. It’s an ending that attains one of those inevitable groans from the audience, where the first two words out of their mouths will be “That’s it?”, leaving “A Mouthful of Air” gasping for the 100 minutes of continuous inhaling it puts its audience through.

My Grade: 5/10 or D+