Rating: R
Runtime: 1 hour, 32 minutes
Director: Lila Neugebauer
Quick Impressions:
I watched this movie entirely for Brian Tyree Henry’s Oscar nominated supporting performance. Going in, I was pretty biased in the film’s favor because I always like Brian Tyree Henry, and I’m thrilled he finally got an Oscar nomination. (Finally seems like a strange word to use when he’s so young, but he’s a conspicuously talented actor.)
I like Jennifer Lawrence, too. And I was surprised to get drawn into the story very quickly. Traumatic brain injury is a topic that has always fascinated me. The brain is so mysterious. And I’ve been thinking a lot about PTSD lately since watching All Quiet on the Western Front.
After my son was born, I developed intense post partum depression with worrying physical symptoms. I don’t often think about it now because 1) It was so strange, and 2) I’m worried maybe it was conversion disorder, so if I think about it, maybe I’ll experience it again. The symptoms weren’t typical. I didn’t have a problem bonding with the baby. I lost feeling in my feet, my hands, my face, and I had bouts of intense confusion, and I started sleep walking, doing memorably strange things. Occasionally, I still wonder, “Did I have a stroke?” (But I had a full neurological workup.) So I don’t know why that happened. I do know that I realized mid-pregnancy I’d never adequately dealt with the trauma of my daughter’s dramatic birth.
But watching graphic war movies, I think, How can I have problems because of something like that when soldiers endure the horrors of combat? I mean, of course you’re traumatized when people beside you are literally going up in flames, exploding, being savagely torn limb from limb, dying with no fanfare and getting thrown into a corpse pile like they’re a piece of meat. That’s horrible. Usually people who don’t go to war (or have war brought to them) never experience anything even remotely that horrible. And then you’re just expected to go back into civilian life.
Jennifer Lawrence’s character asks a very interesting question late in the film. “What if Afghanistan wasn’t the only trauma?” Her character is experiencing PTSD because of an intensely traumatic event (that also physically injured her) while she was overseas. But being back at home is also triggering to her because the reason she joined the Army in the first place is that her homelife in New Orleans was extremely traumatic. Then she meets Brian Tyree Henry’s character who is recovering from a trauma of his own, unrelated to the military or his childhood.
The Good:
Jennifer Lawrence gives a good performance. It’s radically different from most performances I’ve seen her give (and a huge departure from her real-life persona). She’s muted, sometimes almost wooden, appropriate for a taciturn soldier recovering from a traumatic brain injury.
Very early in the film, we learn that Lynsey is taking Ativan, Depakote, Cymbalta, and Vicodin, which really got my attention. That’s a lot of strong stuff! Will the Army let her redeploy on that particular mix of medications? (I wondered that the whole movie.) I’m guessing no, and that’s why she keeps asking the doctor (Stephen Henderson) to take her off her medications.
Even though I enjoyed Lawrence’s performance and also liked Henderson as the understandably reluctant doctor, Henry is the clear standout of the film. If you’re interested in PTSD and recovery stories, the film is worth a watch. But Henry’s performance is the most captivating element.
In a different year, I could imagine him winning an Oscar for this. What’s best about his performance is that he doesn’t seem to be performing. He’s just talking. His character, James, immediately seems trustworthy and sympathetic, and he just gets more trustworthy and more sympathetic as the story progresses.
One thing I liked about this movie was its realistic depiction of how people open up to one another, particularly when sharing something traumatic or embarrassing. For James, the reveal is very gradual. He tells Lynsey a little bit…and a little bit more…and then a little more. And as he opens up emotionally, he also opens up physically, and then a little more emotionally…It’s all gradual, despite the fact that his initial reveal seems dramatic. Lynsey is like that, too, except she’s even more gradual. When pressed, she describes what happened to her in Afghanistan, but she doesn’t like talking about it. When she’s with James, she seems to be coaxing him to open up to her as a way to establish intimacy. When he’s angry, he accuses her of doing this as a way to avoid opening up to him. But it seems just as likely to me that she has a great deal of difficult memories to share, and she needs to establish intimacy and trust before she feels comfortable beginning to share her trauma.
But I could relate to this gradual sharing. There’s a moment when he tells her that he hasn’t been honest. He has been honest, though. He’s just been withholding the part that’s most difficult for him to tell. It’s not like she doesn’t know. Even the audience knows. We have the gist of his story by then, if not every detail. I’ve had this experience—of feeling dishonest because I’ve held back a sensitive part of the truth or because I’ve told some but not (yet) all of a thing.
So if you’re interested in trauma, recovery, intimacy, this film is worth a watch. It also provides an interesting view of New Orleans where it’s set and filmed.
Best Scene Visually:
I like the opening sequence when Lynsey is with the nurse (Jayne Houdyshell) learning that recovery can be slow and gradual. She’s primarily there to let her brain injury heal, to relearn necessary physical tasks. Then the rest of the movie shows us how long processing the trauma can take. The slow, gradual process is the same for both the brain trauma and the PTSD.
Best Scene:
Over the course of three (non-consecutive) scenes, James starts to open up to Lynsey about what happened to him. Every time Brian Tyree Henry is talking, the film is spellbinding. The scene on the bench is pretty heart-wrenching, but the scene featuring Lynsey and James in the pool is the movie’s strongest because everything has been building to this (somewhat horrible) moment.
Best Action Sequence:
Lynsey dropping her snowball really spoke to me. I get her frustration there. I’m not rehabbing from a physical injury, but when I’m having trouble with my mental health, I get so exasperated with myself. I sometimes feel it must seem that nobody who behaves as strangely as I do could possibly be trying not to behave strangely. In general, my limitations frustrate me, and Lawrence does a good job of showing her frustration in a way that fits her understated character.
The Negatives:
I want to know what happened in Lynsey’s house when she was growing up. What was it that was so terrible? I don’t think it was anything her brother did because she consistently describes him as if he’s a victim of it, too.
Early on, I expected her mom (Linda Emond) to turn out to be really abusive. But actually, she’s not so bad. She seems to love her daughter. She’s glad to see her, even though she’s thrown by her early arrival. After their first talk, I thought, “Okay…so is their mom always out partying all the time? Is that it?” But I don’t see evidence to support that. She smokes and drinks, but she has a steady job. Sure she lets the dishes pile up, but that’s not a crime (is it?????).
Was their dad abusive? Was one of her mom’s boyfriends abusive? Did her mom neglect her kids and lose herself in whirlwind romances? (It might be that.)
Possibly a message of the movie is exactly what happened to Lynsey does not matter, and she needs to move forward with her life because something happened to everyone. And to a degree, that’s both true and useful.
But the movie is such a tease! We get to know everything that happened to James! And I think he incorrectly sizes up Lynsey. Sure, his critique seems helpful, but it’s not fair. Unlike James, the audience knows exactly what happened to Lynsey in Afghanistan. So if she can’t wait to go back there because she can’t stand being back in the house where she grew up, something terrible must have happened at home.
I also spent most of the movie terrified that these two would end up romantically involved. They have great chemistry (which was scaring me to death) (especially because part of me kept thinking, “But they should just try dating. Maybe it would make them both so happy.”). (And then I’d have to remind myself, “No Sarah. That would make you happy. That will not work for this character.”)
(Honestly, I am the worst. I want everyone to fall in love all the time. I remember having the weirdest conversation with one of students because I suggested Hilary Swank and Clint Eastwood should get married in Million Dollar Baby. He was so baffled. He said, “I didn’t think it was a romantic relationship.” I was like, “Well, it’s not, but they both don’t have anyone else in the world but each other! They could get married for tax purposes…and then fall in love.”)
Watching Causeway, I had to combat these tendencies within myself because based on what Lynsey reveals, she absolutely should not end up dating James (unless she’s lying to him) (which is also problematic). I just really like James. And Lynsey! But I’m not in this story, and the two people who are in it should not be dating. That would be highly problematic with the setup we’re given. (I spent a lot of the movie deeply concerned about this. You’re probably supposed to, but it was still very stressful.)
Overall:
Causeway is a interesting movie, and Brian Tyree Henry is Oscar worthy. I am curious why the film is named for the event central to Henry’s character’s story when Lawrence’s character is the protagonist. Maybe I’ll watch again with that question in mind (though I probably won’t). If you like Brian Tyree Henry, you might enjoy this film. His performance is quite gripping.