Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close
Gotta hurry up and get this in before the Oscars... for some odd reason. It's not like it matters...
Roll Call: Tom Hanks, Thomas Horn, Sandra Bullock, John Goodman, Max Von Sydow, Viola Davis, and Jeffrey Wright. Eric Roth and Jonathan Safran Foer, writers. Stephen Daldry, director.
What's It About: A young boy's (Thomas Horn) quest to find the lock (and healing) that fits the mysterious key left behind by his father (Tom Hanks) who perished in the 9/11 attacks in New York City.
What About It: I have to say that this isn't one I was in a hurry to see. It had all the trappings of a sentimentally overloaded sludge of a movie- the sort of movie whose end goal would seem to be to manufacture a river of tears from the audience. And given the subject matter here, I'd find that a bit repulsive. And, actually, the first reviews were not kind. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close? More like, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close to Exploitation- to paraphrase one critic. (Don't remember which one). So, with all that expressed, I wasn't exactly going to rush out and see it. But then, a few people I know saw it and several of them liked it a lot. Add to that that it was nominated for Best Picture and Max Von Sydow was nominated for Best Supporting Actor (by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences- to completely insult your intelligence) and I pretty much had to see it- later/sooner rather than later/later (I mean the thing's been out since Christmas and I just saw it on President's Day).
I have to say, I'm glad I saw it. I'm not sure it's one that I ever would have gotten around to on video considering how few I do see at home (though, still without a pass, that may change). And I think the fact that I saw it here on Long Island added something to the viewing experience. The theater was relatively packed for a movie that has been out for so long, and I just got the sense that to these people (and make no mistake, I have yet to talk to someone who didn't know someone directly or indirectly- though closely indirectly- who wasn't affected in a personal manner by the attacks) this movie meant something. I think a majority of the folks who dealt with the tragedy on such a close level are still grappling with the healing and I suspect that a number of New Yorkers who saw the movie- or read the novel and then saw the movie- were hoping to experience some level of healing right along side Oskar (Thomas Horn). I know, I know. I typically don't buy such prone-to-BS notions. But, I have to say, sitting in that theater as the movie was playing I did sense something different in that crowd. All I can say, again, is that it seemed to mean something for them to see the movie. And I doubt many of them saw it as exploitation... though honestly to a degree it was. As would any motion picture about any tragic event would be. These aren't not-for-profit groups putting the movies out.
So I guess I have to raise a question I rarely consider when it comes to movies (mostly because I see a movie's primary purpose being to entertain, then perhaps I consider it art, then finally an effective means of delivering a message or anything along those lines). But given what this event- 9/11-meant to people. Given it's effects on all Americans and New Yorkers in particular (not to diminish what happened in Washington D.C. and Pennsylvania), was it worth it to bring this all up in such clear focus for the sake of a movie? Clearly, the filmmakers were playing with some pretty painful wounds. Don't think so? Just the sight of the ominous black plume of smoke rising from the World Trade Center towers was enough to bring a good number of the audience to tears. And it only increased as the the movie's main characters were put through what so many people experienced on such a horrific level a decade ago. So, was it worth to bring this all up so vividly? I'm not so sure it was. But for practical purposes, I suppose I'll have to leave it as a more rhetorical question. I'm not the right person to answer that question. I imagine I have a much different view of the events of 9/11 than most New Yorkers. I assume most of the country does (with the exception again of those folks in Washington D.C. and anyone who lost someone on any of the doomed flights). I watched the day's events unfold on TV- and I didn't watch them live. I was a student at Marquette University. And, with an 8AM class, I was sitting in the classroom as the planes were crashing. They let us out of class early and by the time I made it back to my dorm room, I had a pretty firm grasp on what was going on. I then, with my roommate, proceeded to watch and rewatch the morning's horrific events for several hours straight. Later, we both went to Ultimate Frisbee practice. And it was a relief to be able to put that out of our minds for a few hours. I doubt anyone in New York or Washington D.C. had such a luxury. But that's the thing with many of us. 9/11 was TV, a TV event. I don't mean to be a heartless, soulless individual but, it's true. I can't picture the events of that morning without seeing them reflected through a TV screen. We shut the TV off and walked away. New Yorkers didn't have that option. New Yorkers were hit hard. And hit in real time. Sorry for the tangent. I just wanted to underscore my doubt over whether I can answer the question I raised before. Clearly, I can't. And I haven't been able to find anyone who could. Not that I've tried too hard, though. Prior to seeing the movie, I thought it was going to be awful.
And awful it wasn't. Just on the basics and merits of it being a movie it wasn't awful (as opposed to being a meaningful tool for collective healing that is). That doesn't mean I was in love with it though. Some of what I think about it is going to make me seem as heartless and soulless as my previous paragraph. But I felt what I felt...so to get on with it I'll mention that Thomas Horn gives one hell of a performance as a kid with some pretty serious emotional/development issues to begin with who then gets tossed into this brutal chaos. It's rare to see a child actor be able to disappear so well into a role. And Horn does it with what seems to be ease. That said, I couldn't help but think the character came off less as having emotional issues and more as a spoiled brat or to be even baser a little shit. If the filmmakers hadn't gone to such lengths to explain that- while they won't put an exact label to it- the kid's got issues that are clearly out of his control- starting with overwhelming anxiety- I would have found the whole thing deplorable. The things Oskar says, the way he treats people, and how little grasp his parents have over what he does... something just seems out of whack with it. That said, I have had very little experience with kids who have any level of developmental or emotional problems so I will admit that I may be wrong or off here. But it just seems as though the filmmakers could have gone in a bit of a different direction. Did Oskar have to be so... mouthy? I don't know, but it was particularly irksome when it played for laughs- perhaps more than director Stephen Daldry and company would have liked. I should mention, though, that after a while I was able to just put those feelings in my back pocket and let the movie play out with only the occasional wince. And it became much easier to watch.
Aside from that and the story's relative implausibility and tendency to turn many of its background characters into caricatures (Oskar's search for the missing lock has him attempting to talk to every New Yorker with the surname of Black- many of the folks he meets show up on screen as overly quirky characters- in every sense of the word. It got to be a bit annoying...), there really wasn't much to complain about here. The story, despite the enormous potential pitfalls it was built around turned out to be compelling and surprisingly not overburdened by grasps at heartstrings. The acting was rock solid as well. I've already mentioned Horn's near-miraculous performance. Beyond him, Tom Hanks as Oskar's deceased father (seen in flashback) and Sandra Bullock as Oskar's grieving mother do what they do best- play convincing and interesting everyday people. (Extraordinary ordinary folks). Viola Davis, Jeffrey Wright, and John Goodman all help the film along as well. Of course, besides Horn, the real gem of the movie is Max Von Sydow as the mysterious, mute "Renter" (a name given to him because he rents a room in Oskar's grandmother's apartment). With a mischievous twinkle in his eye and an incredible ability to portray a host of emotions without saying a word, Von Sydow became- for me- a reason to stay engaged with the movie. I don't think it's coincidence that I was able to enjoy the movie more once "The Renter" appeared. He somehow managed to add a dash of humanity to the little brat (I'm sorry, but it's true... to a degree) at the story's center. (And by no means do I think the filmmakers envisioned Oskar as a brat- nor do I think the character was supposed to be inherently bratty- or at least to that level. But he came off as a little shit. That's all there is to it. It's unfortunate.) On the whole, given everything it has going for it, I couldn't help but be impressed by the effort here. It could have turned out much differently. I'm glad it didn't.
The Bottom Line: It's absolutely shocking that Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close managed- at least in my mind- to avoid coming off as anything other that sheer exploitation (at the worst) or treacly crap (at the best). Somehow it avoids giving off an aura of contrived sentimentality and as it hit its stride, it became a watchable and- beyond that- compelling movie. Kudos there. In lesser hands, this movie could easily have been a travesty (and I don't use that term lightly). But Daldry and company did the best they could with some tricky subject matter. Is the payoff for dredging up such horrific memories in such vivid detail worth it? That's not for me to say. What I can say is that this definitely was a pretty darn good- if not great- effort.
Grade: B+
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