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Little Children (2006 - Todd Field)
The darkness lying behind the well-mowed exteriors of American suburbia has long been a target of literature and films ever since the end of WWII, but in the past decade with movies from Welcome to the Dollhouse (1995) and The Ice Storm (1997) to The Virgin Suicides (1999) and The Safety of Objects (2001) and of course the Oscar-winning American Beauty (1999), it has become a bit of a cliché. Finding something new or relevant or insightful to say on the subject is now a challenge. Director Todd Field has given it a shot in Little Children.
Adapted from the novel of the same name, we follow a few characters through their daily longings and secrets until they intersect and crises force drastic decisions. Sarah (Kate Winslet) is a young mother with a Masters in Literature who is an uneasy young mother. She loves her daughter, but hates the clique of gossiping neighborhood Moms and is growing resentful of how little time she has for herself thanks in part to a husband (Gregg Edelman) who is too busy either working or masturbating to the internet porn he's recently discovered. Brad (Patrick Wilson) is an equally uneasy stay-at-home Dad. His wife Kathy (Jennifer Connelly) is beautiful and determined and comes from money, but Brad feels that she doesn't respect or love him much and if he fails the Bar Exam one more time whatever affection remains may evaporate forever. To get back a bit of his youth and a smidgeon of independence he has joined an adult nighttime touch football league at the invitation of a neighbor he never much cared for, an ex-cop named Larry (Noah Emmerich). The entire community is a bit on edge this particular summer as a forty-something man who was convicted of exposing himself to a child on a playground (played by Jackie Earle Haley, who was briefly a young star in the '70s in movies like The Bad News Bears and Breaking Away) has been released from prison and is living back home with his elderly mother (Phyllis Somerville). These are the ingredients for our tragedy. The secret sexual affair between Sarah and Brad and the boiling tensions of the known pedophile heat up at roughly the same time as the temperature and humidity climb around the public pool and fenced-in back yards.
The distant tone to all these sorted goings-on is aided by an omniscient narrator (actor Will Lyman, who's deep voice has marked episodes of "Nova", "Frontline" and other PBS documentaries over the years) who occasionally remarks about the action and the characters' unspoken thoughts and desires. This very literary language and style, lifted directly from the book, doesn't ever quite work the way it should. Unlike the narrators in Kubrick's Barry Lyndon and Von Trier's Dogville, there isn't enough ironic juxtapoisitioning to the on-screen action, rather it comes off as a lazy way to tell what the movie is unable to show.
Much like in Field's first directorial effort, In the Bedroom (2001), he has the filmmaking ability to bring a sense of dread and loss to the screen without giving the audience a chance to breathe by inserting much comic relief, and there are plenty of good performances. Without the element of satire that someone like Todd Solondz brings to the table, the unsettling stuff is just unsettling without much seeming point beyond the obvious. Ultimately while certainly effective in spots Little Children can't destinguish itself enough from the ever-growing list of other dark suburban tales.
GRADE: B-
Little Children (2006 - Todd Field)
The darkness lying behind the well-mowed exteriors of American suburbia has long been a target of literature and films ever since the end of WWII, but in the past decade with movies from Welcome to the Dollhouse (1995) and The Ice Storm (1997) to The Virgin Suicides (1999) and The Safety of Objects (2001) and of course the Oscar-winning American Beauty (1999), it has become a bit of a cliché. Finding something new or relevant or insightful to say on the subject is now a challenge. Director Todd Field has given it a shot in Little Children.
Adapted from the novel of the same name, we follow a few characters through their daily longings and secrets until they intersect and crises force drastic decisions. Sarah (Kate Winslet) is a young mother with a Masters in Literature who is an uneasy young mother. She loves her daughter, but hates the clique of gossiping neighborhood Moms and is growing resentful of how little time she has for herself thanks in part to a husband (Gregg Edelman) who is too busy either working or masturbating to the internet porn he's recently discovered. Brad (Patrick Wilson) is an equally uneasy stay-at-home Dad. His wife Kathy (Jennifer Connelly) is beautiful and determined and comes from money, but Brad feels that she doesn't respect or love him much and if he fails the Bar Exam one more time whatever affection remains may evaporate forever. To get back a bit of his youth and a smidgeon of independence he has joined an adult nighttime touch football league at the invitation of a neighbor he never much cared for, an ex-cop named Larry (Noah Emmerich). The entire community is a bit on edge this particular summer as a forty-something man who was convicted of exposing himself to a child on a playground (played by Jackie Earle Haley, who was briefly a young star in the '70s in movies like The Bad News Bears and Breaking Away) has been released from prison and is living back home with his elderly mother (Phyllis Somerville). These are the ingredients for our tragedy. The secret sexual affair between Sarah and Brad and the boiling tensions of the known pedophile heat up at roughly the same time as the temperature and humidity climb around the public pool and fenced-in back yards.
The distant tone to all these sorted goings-on is aided by an omniscient narrator (actor Will Lyman, who's deep voice has marked episodes of "Nova", "Frontline" and other PBS documentaries over the years) who occasionally remarks about the action and the characters' unspoken thoughts and desires. This very literary language and style, lifted directly from the book, doesn't ever quite work the way it should. Unlike the narrators in Kubrick's Barry Lyndon and Von Trier's Dogville, there isn't enough ironic juxtapoisitioning to the on-screen action, rather it comes off as a lazy way to tell what the movie is unable to show.
Much like in Field's first directorial effort, In the Bedroom (2001), he has the filmmaking ability to bring a sense of dread and loss to the screen without giving the audience a chance to breathe by inserting much comic relief, and there are plenty of good performances. Without the element of satire that someone like Todd Solondz brings to the table, the unsettling stuff is just unsettling without much seeming point beyond the obvious. Ultimately while certainly effective in spots Little Children can't destinguish itself enough from the ever-growing list of other dark suburban tales.
GRADE: B-