A successful lawyer, with a new wife and infant, agrees to care for his teenage son from a previous marriage after his ex-wife becomes concerned about the boy's wayward behavior.
For a film that wants to show how everyone should love unconditionally because we don’t know what the hell some people are going though, it’s biggest sin is its lack of authenticity. Its attempt to reflect modern day parenting and the helpless feelings of guilt we feel when our kids are suffering to examine the generational impact of failed parenthood is noble, showcasing how we often use our own sensitivity and vulnerability to distract us from accepting help or realizing when someone else is suffering. These are very pure intentions through and through but the execution is an hackneyed, crowded and often incoherent jumble of clunky and uncomfortable scenarios that achieve the exact opposite effect it aims for.
And to think, this movie was designed exactly how it was intended: it was meant to come off frustrating and confusing but the characters don’t sell the writing completely and vice versa, mostly thanks to the plot structures superficiality and the scripts emotionally manipulative bowels. This is in INCREDIBLY stark contrast to Florian Zeller’s first film, The Father, a movie that gave us a more sincere, candid, tragic look at how mental disorder can tear a family apart by SHOWING rather than telling. Not only does Zeller’s direction outright refuse to give The Son, EITHER SON, any actual depth but none of the elegance or subtlety from The Father is passed down here; it’s just glib, cynical, on-the-nose skimming that reinforces a lot of harmful stereotypes and dares to spit in your face with an ending that left me questioning if The Father was actually any good at all.
Nearly everything in this film, even if it was meant to be intentionally aloof, detached, or awkward, gradually becomes parodic, degrading and as difficult to stomach as the story itself.
I was genuinely shocked at how uneven the acting was all throughout with Zen McGrath, unfortunately, being the worst out of the entire ensemble. I’m heartbroken for this kid, man; I’m certain he tried his best with the material but even if he wasn’t stilted, what he’s given is embarrassing. Every character is annoyingly clueless or barren with one notable exception, the production design is basically window painting, dialogue is painfully inert and obvious and even the cinematography is off-putting; for every intimate, carefully framed, striking shot with neat lighting, there’re wobbling and uneven seconds later. At least the editing is consistent and I didn’t mind the color palette.
Whatever the movie had for atmosphere is fittingly bleak and claustrophobic but the pacing here is absolutely ABSURD and even Hans Zimmer, who can normally wriggle a good musical score out of ANYTHING, can’t get much eerie mileage out of a score that’s heavily sparse and sporadic.
I’m honestly baffled by this; this movie looked and presented itself as a cautionary tale so simplistic that I didn’t think it’d be possible to screw it up. What should’ve been an undiluted, uncomplicated story about the dwindling reality on mental health and the generational trauma that comes with it is, instead, a discouraging, infuriating and ugly portrait on a serious subject.
