Directed By Cole Webley
Starring – John Magaro, Molly Belle Wright, Wyatt Solis
The Plot – A young girl (Wright) and her brother (Solis) are awoken by their father (Magaro) and loaded into the car on an early morning in 2008. As they road trip across the American West, she discovers the truth about their seemingly spontaneous journey
Rated PG-13 for thematic material
POSITIVES
For his feature length directorial debut, Webley has tapped into a whimsically immersive side of adolescence that not only vividly articulates the family dynamic as being one providing of the necessary comfort and sanctuary from the humbled humility of the outside world, but also one utilized to conjure an intentionally false sense of security for an adoring audience, mere minutes before he breaks their hearts with the single biggest gut-punch of an ending that I’ve experienced this year. To be completely honest, I did see what eventually materialized coming from the very beginning of the experience, but even as the film shrouds itself in the required motivational ambiguity of this established road trip, with evidential insight in small doses conveying the insurmountable struggles of this single parent continuously attempting to keep matters together with his last remaining dollars, there’s an increasingly devastating and unavoidable tension that feels like a palpable 900 pound gorilla among the claustrophobic confines of their deteriorated automobile, allowing us the same kind of speculative interpretations as those concerning the very youths who are too young to read between the lines of the body language elicited unconsciously from their exhausted father. While a film like this could easily fall by the wayside of feeling like a wet blanket to the escapist factor of cinema, the reality is that Webley loses his directive efforts in the care-free exuberance of these adventurous children, whose parental protection from the realities of a prejudicially cruel and devastating world towards poverty-stricken households affords them the kind of imaginative innocence that all of us eventually lose at one age or another, keeping the atmospheric elements free from manipulative melodrama that can feel exploitative, particularly in films where children are at the forefront of the movie’s conflict. In fact, so many of the conversations and intuitive responses of the characters feel so ingrained with effortless naturality that I sometimes forgot that I was watching a fictional movie transpire before my very eyes, particularly among the many scatterbrained interactions between siblings that articulated the insatiable imaginations of children, even with hilarious toilet humor that stands out in a movie this gracefully executed. The comedy itself doesn’t stay long, as the aforementioned uncertainty factor continually keeps audiences on guard for the expectations of what’s to come, but even in the sporadic doses that it does periodically appear, it allows these children ample opportunity to bring to life their infectious personalities as a means of leaving their vulnerability unguarded, all the while offering enough recreational levity to an audience who remain restless throughout the movie’s duration, as a result of the inevitability on the horizon that will require each of them to unceremoniously grow and mature against their wills. Speaking of horizon, the film is shot incredibly for such a small budgeted indie family drama, with Webley and cinematographer Paul Meyers pitching artistic beauty to a collage of breathtaking scenery and unconventional framing techniques, the likes of which stabilize a lot of durable creativity towards the filming of its presentation. On the former, the wide angles conjured during montages certainly craft an immensity to the distinguished magnitude that intentionally outline the diminutive essence of being one in the billions of stories that make up the turbulent universe, corresponding brilliantly alongside Christopher Bear’s unobtrusive score to cast a gently glowing radiance of scenic splendor to the movie’s tranquility, and the latter, while substantially offering plenty to chew on within the complex dynamics of the scenes they casually adorn, with regards to the isolated introspection of these character responses, makes the off-centered depiction of the characters feel disorienting in the instability of their candid captures, typically conveying that much about this environment is tethered and unstable, long before the meticulous exposition of the dialogue clues us into the evidence to support its cause. If this isn’t enough, the editing techniques from Jai Shukla creates a connective tangibility to the audience in ways that tenderly touches your soul at the most defining moments of the film’s duration, creating a lingering persistence to moments pertaining to joy, realization, and grief within this conflicted family, coinciding seamlessly with the deliberate pacing of the movie’s consistent execution, especially once Bear’s aforementioned themes evoke a delicate poignancy on the parameters of the proceedings. But it’s ultimately the highly talented trio of actors at the movie’s forefront who take the lions share of responsibility for why this film lands as prominent as it does, with John Magaro, Molly Belle Wright, and Wyatt Solis each appraising an authenticity factor among their tender portrayals, the likes of which evolve and expand to give their respective characters the kind of lived-in depth that feels evident in the personalities they lend to character. In his biggest leading role to date, Magaro gives a quietly subdued and devastatingly disarming performance that feels like he carries the weight of the world on his stoic shoulders, treading through a tumultuous tug of war between judgment and morality, the likes of which leave him inches from tears each time he attempts to even look at one of his children. Whether or not we’re supposed to feel displeasure with the occasionally unfavorable decisions that his character makes at seemingly every stop of this increasingly difficult road trip, there’s an empathetic endearment to the candidness of his portrayal that goes a long way in conveying the tethered resiliency of life’s coldly unrelenting hand, cementing a next level performance from Magaro that has made a fellow Akronite like me proud of his tremendous progress. Likewise, in similar fashion to her turn last week in Renny Harlin’s Deep Water, Wright stands out with an electric energy and eagerness that eventually gives way to sorrow, during some of the film’s meatier moments, with an inseparably shared chemistry with Solis that feels lived in with the kind of flawless believability that I truly couldn’t get enough of. While Wright and Solis inscribe a lot of personality towards expressive sequences that entertain the rambunctiousness in them, they’re each careful not to tread the line towards precociousness within their decorated portrayals, instead opting for the spontaneity of children within boredom that appraised improvisational acting for each of them throughout the proceedings, lending itself seamlessly to the naturality of Webley’s direction making this feel so grounded and relatable, despite evolving with a particular conflict that only unfortunate souls are forced to address. Lastly, I appreciate that Webley utilized his creative outlet to shed light on a real-life problem in this country, particularly Nebraska, that has forced political figures to take a stand against a loophole in legislation. While I can’t exactly comment on the extent of the awareness, for fear of spoilers, I can say that the post-movie on-screen text illustrated an increasingly growing problem among providing parents and nurtured children that I didn’t expect in such a specific area of the world, and considering it comes on the back of such a gut-punch climax during the film’s closing moments, it conveys a restless uneasiness that hopefully will enact a deeper conversation on ways to further alleviate such a growing problem, especially in an economy that is growing impossible to provide effectively.
NEGATIVES
At barely 78 minutes of screentime, Omaha is certainly a smoothly seamless engagement that stood out endearingly for a slow-burn enthusiast such as myself, but in refusing to contend with audience patience, the movie undercuts some of its most significant moments among the bonded development between father and children, leaving me wishing that an additional ten minutes was added to the finished product, in order to illustrate the extensive difficulty of his monumental decision at the film’s most defining moments. While it’s easy to understand that these kids clearly mean a lot to him, as many of his enacted actions during this road trip typically motivate themselves to their well-being, the dialect between them falls absent during the moments the script seems to be leaning further into the dramatic territory of the reality of the children’s absent mother, especially one scene involving the father crying in a hotel bathroom while his kids sleep. I can understand Webley’s intention of never allowing the film to overstay its welcome or overstate its narrative, but I feel those foundational moments between this trio are ultimately what will leave the final act of the movie feeling most devastating to those who watched it, and though I was nearly on the edge of the same tears that many in my audience felt, I failed to get there with a lack of more down time spent throughout those quiet moments away from the road. In addition to this, my only other problem with the film pertained to some of its productional hinderances, which unintentionally obscured immersion into the established setting of 2008. While a John McCain campaign poster can be seen in an apartment window during the first couple of scenes, unforeseen matters pertaining to gas prices and newer automobiles soiled the sanctity of its timely relevant framing device, in turn leaving me a bit skeptical for roughly a majority of the opening hour, as to whether the film intended the movie to be set in 2008, or if those occasional glaring instances were nothing more than outdated ideals of its townsfolk.
OVERALL
Omaha is a powerfully poignant and quietly heartbreaking portrait of familial poverty, seen through the endearing mileage of a family road trip without any of the transparency to fuel its tank towards greener pastures. Stacked with a trio of naturally enacted performances, polaroid pristine production values, and a daringly fearless directorial debut for Cole Webley, the film takes an unpaved route towards uncovering the rocky realities of parental resilience and unforeseen sacrifice, unloading a gut-punch of a finale that steals your breath every bit as much as it haunts your dreams.
My Grade: 8.6 or A-