Runtime: 2 hours, 2 minutes
Rating: R
Director: Ned Benson
Quick Impressions:
Once again, I want to see almost everything out this week, and I almost picked The Maze Runner. Since the weekend, I’ve been going back and forth between titles, trying to make up my mind, and The Maze Runner does look cool and exciting.
Here’s the thing, though. I write YA, so the thought of reviewing a YA adaptation makes me weirdly nervous. (I don’t know why. How likely is it that somebody in the publishing industry will choose not to work with me because I gave a movie adaptation a review that was too positive? And you know that’s what I would do! Somehow, that’s what I always do!)
The other thing is that I think I’d enjoy The Maze Runner more if I watched it with my husband and stepson, and we’re trying to save money right now by cutting back on big family trips to the movies.
And then the other thing (there are quite a lot of things, as it turns out!)—I’ve been dying to see The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby since I learned its compelling (some might say gimmicky, but I won’t) premise months ago!
I’m always game for exercises in shifting point of view. As a child, I lived for sit-com episodes featuring two characters “remembering” a story completely differently. I swear, when I was a kid, this happened all the time. It must have been an 80s TV staple. I always found it so funny to see how differently two people who knew each other remembered (and, potentially, even experienced) a common moment. And then usually, in the last five minutes of the show, a third, impartial character tells another version of the story, one that’s either much more likely to be true or completely hilarious and useless because the narrator is hopelessly self-absorbed and unaware of the conflict between the two protagonists.)
It’s funny. The creation of narrative has always fascinated me. (Well, maybe since I’m a writer, it’s not so funny, after all. That’s like saying, “The bone structure of birds has always fascinated me.” “What do you do?” “I’m an ornithologist.”)
Anyway, I’m fascinated and tormented by the idea that the people around me at any given moment are not experiencing that moment in the same way that I am. (Tormented may seem an odd word to use, but just imagine! What if somebody I know is experiencing and conceiving of my life in a better, more meaningful way than I am? What then? What then???!)
The point is, I’m fascinated by lenses and by using narrative to make sense of reality and by point of view and all that stuff, so how could I not love a project that tells exactly the same story (i.e., presents the same events) from two completely different points of view?
And then I hear this amazing project is also a showcase for several talented actors and that Jessica Chastain might even get a nomination for Best Actress? I’m afraid I’m hooked. You’ve more than sold me on this movie. I’m in.
Here’s weird thing about this movie, though. It used to be two separate movies, and now, it’s neither of them. The project screened at the Toronto International Film Festival as two distinct films, The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Him and The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Her. The subject of both films was the disappearance of the wife from a relationship, but Him told the story entirely from the man’s point of view, Her, from the woman’s.
Then Harvey Weinstein got involved and decided that American audiences (and more importantly Academy members) might not want to watch two separate feature length films about a relationship breaking down. So now we get The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Them, a film that promises to tell the story from both points of view (though from what I’ve read, it’s actually shorter than one of its components).
What’s problematic, of course, is that while two hours is indeed a more watchable length than five or six, suddenly a very unique concept becomes just another two hour relationship drama.
Still, Jessica Chastain is such a talented and versatile actress that she could potentially overcome this debacle and secure an acting nomination, after all. (And plus, I hear that Him and Her will eventually be released, too, later in the fall.)
So that’s why I finally committed to The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Them. When The Maze Runner is available for streaming, everyone in the house will be delighted to watch it with me. But if I don’t see this movie now, then when will I ever find the time?
The Good:
In its present form, this movie has two obvious strengths, 1) Its fantastic acting ensemble and 2) The way it looks.
Let me talk about the second thing first because I lack the technical expertise to label the phenomenon succinctly. When I say “the way it looks,” I don’t just mean the cinematography. Almost every shot is exquisitely framed, and the composition of each shot is incredible. This seems to go beyond cinematography into set design, costuming, and make-up.
Basically, this film is an incredible showcase for actors. I can see why Benson was able to assemble such an impressive cast. Almost every single character gets a big, showy, showcased moment. Before their line delivery even enters into it, they’re given the perfect hair, make-up, and costumes (so that they match the scenery), the perfect setting, and lighting that is so ideal it’s almost eerie.
This film reminds me of an antique carousel. Why? (Because I’m crazy, obviously.) But, seriously, why? Because as the carousel spins, we see it pass in a blur and try to make sense of what we see. Then it stops, and we’re able to focus on one carefully crafted horse, carved and painted by an artist, aged and worn by time, an arresting thing of beauty that gives us pause and speaks to us. And then the carousel spins again. And then it stops again. And then we’re treated to another look at another horse.
Jessica Chastain’s Eleanor is the character we’re shown the most (which is somewhat ironic given the film’s title. It’s like we’re being told, “Here is the person who isn’t here.”) Chastain is phenomenal (but I’ve never seen her not be phenomenal). She certainly could get an Oscar nomination based on the strength of the performance even in this cut of the film. As far as the others go, I think Him and Her would have to make a strong showing before I’d predict nominations for the rest of the cast.
Among Eleanor’s supporting players, Viola Davis is the clear standout. If anybody pulls off a supporting nomination for this film, it should definitely be her. (I think Harvey Weinstein knows this, too, because she’s in it a lot, making a far stronger and more intriguing impression than most of the other supporting players.) Maybe it’s just because I’m an ex-academic myself, but I would gladly watch an entire movie of Chastain and Davis grabbing coffee on or near campus.
(Only after the film did I realize that Chastain and Davis appeared together before—in The Help. You forget that because they’re both so versatile. Plus, they didn’t really have any scenes together.)
Isabelle Huppert also has a plum supporting role as Chastain’s mother, and she is consistently intriguing. (I really loved Huppert in I Heart Huckabees.) One of her lines is so unexpected and odd—and yet her delivery is so convincing and real—that a lone elderly woman in my screening burst out laughing uproariously.
William Hurt’s early scenes I didn’t like much (though I think Hurt is a great and versatile actor). But Hurt’s final scene is absolutely tremendous. It’s a fantastic, powerful, show-stopping moment.
I’m completely unfamiliar with Jess Weixler, but she’s also very good as Eleanor’s sister. I totally believed that they were sisters. The two had great chemistry. Their relationship seemed totally natural, effortlessly authentic. I wish we knew more about that character.
Then there’s Connor’s side of the story. I must say, I expected Chastain to be excellent (she’s always excellent). The idea of her giving an Oscar-worthy performance is certainly nothing new. But I was absolutely blown away by James McAvoy. I’ve always liked McAvoy, but I’ve never personally seen him give a performance quite as strong as this. (Something weird, too. Ordinarily, I find performers more intriguing and more attractive when they speak in their natural accents, but in this odd case, I discovered that I like McAvoy better with an American accent. I really don’t understand why, and that’s why I mention it.)
The film seems cut to favor Chastain, but I would love to see McAvoy get some Oscar love, too. This is one of those eye-opening performances. You watch and think, “Oh, maybe in the future, we should start thinking about James McAvoy when it’s time to dole out all those Oscars.”
I loved him as Connor. He seemed so real. I actually preferred his character and enjoyed seeing him, but then he never got as much to do, and the people around him were never quite as captivating.
I wish, particularly, that we saw more of his dad, played Ciarán Hinds. There’s a late scene they have together that is pretty fantastic, but earlier, the character seems kind of weird. He’s one of those people who gets talked about so much that he seems he ought to matter, but then he’s hardly ever there. I’ve always liked Hinds as an actor, but I thought his speaking voice in this movie was very strange. Oddly enough, though, in that late scene, when the character seems less vague and more present, the accent suddenly sounds less vague and more real, too. I think if there are any additional scenes with him, they should put them back in the movie. (Of course, that would mean a fourth cut of the film! How many can they possibly make?)
Nina Arianda is great in a very, very small part. (I mean, it seems especially tiny considering what a strong performance she gives.)
And I love Bill Hader. He has a low key part here, but he’s one of Connor’s most frequent screen partners, so his presence is very important. And (oddly enough) he’s playing one of the few supporting characters that does not seem particularly weird or troublesomely selfish. (I suppose in that way, he’s similar to Eleanor’s sister.)
Best Scene Visually:
In a late scene, Eleanor picks up the phone receiver and holds it to her ear. Guess what? The receiver matches the highlights in her hair. And then in the back of the room far behind her, the curtains match the main color of her hair, and the way the light hits the edges of them almost gives the curtains their own highlights.
This happens to her all the time! Scenery coordinates with her clothes, hair, and make-up everywhere she goes! After a while, I started looking for it. What would be in the shot with her next? In what way would it mimic or complement her appearance? Would it also reflect on her interiority or on the events she was currently experiencing?
If you say, “I wanted to see if Chastain’s hair would match the drapes,” it sounds like you’re setting up a dirty joke or something. But seriously, this movie rewards that kind of attention to detail. What will Jessica Chastain match next? And how will that visual coordination end up working in the story?
I sense there’s something more going on here than finding good lighting for beautiful people.
In the scene I just mentioned, the colors not only coordinate, but her position in the room also matters. The lines of the shot are so clean and pronounced you feel like you could be looking at a painting in a gallery.
I watched, thinking, Are you sure Eleanor Rigby disappeared? I keep seeing her everywhere! She matches half of New York. Maybe you should look harder for her. She might just be blending in. Maybe she’s been there the whole time, really, and it’s a camouflage thing.
There’s also a great shot of Connor sitting at the bar, and many, many repeated shots of Eleanor at one particular subway station.
The movie’s visuals are just as much a star as any of its cast, and that’s saying something because the actors are uniformly fantastic.
Best Scene:
Connor and Eleanor seem more alive in one another’s presence. (Unfortunately, although their acting in these scenes is great, this is also where they get some of their cheesiest lines.)
But I love a late moment when Chastain confesses that she can’t remember something, and McAvoy refreshes her memory.
To be honest, though, Chastain’s scenes with Davis were the ones I most looked forward to in the movie. I was even hoping they might get together one more time (even though that made no sense) just because I enjoyed watching them on screen together.
Most Oscar Worthy Moment, James McAvoy:
I don’t expect an Oscar nomination for McAvoy because he would have to be Best Actor, and surely there won’t be room for him. But he’s still magnificent. I loved his whole performance (because it seemed so real), but I can think of one amazing moment for him more easily than I can for Chastain.
Following a scene with a colleague in his restaurant, we get a shot of him sitting in regret, dismay, sadness, grief, in the corner of a booth. The look in his eyes alone evokes such powerful emotions immediately. It’s a stunning display of sadness that ought to get the attention of the people who give out awards for acting.
Most Oscar Worthy Moment, Jessica Chastain:
What makes Chastain’s performance great is more of a cumulative effect. I feel that she gets to show off her gifts most in her scenes with her mother, though, because these require a certain nuance, the ability to convey multiple, complex emotions at once.
The scene, for example, when she comes home from releasing the firefly and finds her mother waiting with a glass of wine is riveting. What makes Chastain’s performance great, though, is that she’s hardly ever given time alone without some outside agitation. She’s constantly forced into conversations with other characters, and all of them have problems of their own. (I think this is the point of her name, as Viola Davis’s character rather awkwardly emphasizes for us.)
Best Action Sequence:
The clear stand-out here is the end of the “stalking” scene after Connor follows Eleanor to and from class.
The Negatives:
Compare these two pitches.
- A) “Watch The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Him to see the struggles of a man experiencing loss as his wife slowly vanishes from his life. Then stay for its companion piece The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Her to see the same events depicted from the wife’s point of view.” (Cool, right?)
- B) “Watch The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Them to see a story about the breakdown of a marriage told from the points of view of the two protagonists.” (Sorry, but a story told from the points of view of the protagonists—isn’t that just a typical movie?)
Relationship dramas are usually told from the points of view of the characters in the relationship(s). That’s an entirely conventional presentation style, nothing bold or innovative or risky or novel about it at all. And unfortunately, that’s what we get in The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Them.
I haven’t had the opportunity to see Him and Her (because they haven’t been given an ordinary theatrical release yet). But what I would expect from them is to see two surprisingly different stories (even though the overlapping plot points are the same). Nobody experiences life in the same way as anyone else. (I mean, look at a murder mystery. If you told it three separate times, from the points of view of the murderer, the victim, and the detective who solves the case, you’d produce three incredibly different stories about the same events.) A relationship drama would work the same way. (Look at all the people who have stories about crazy exes. Surely which ex is the “crazy one” is determined by which ex is the narrator.)
(Also—I’m off on a tangent now—wouldn’t it be delightful to make a movie about a serial killer telling the story of a failed relationship with his crazy ex? Talk about fun with point-of-view! The Coen Brothers could make that movie, and then I’m pretty sure it would work. Quentin Tarantino might be able to pull it off, too. In fact, maybe Tarantino’s already done it.)
Anyway, my point is, I would expect two different stories. Here’s what I wonder, though. What about the scenes where Connor and Eleanor come together? Are these scenes identical in Him and Her, or are they cut slightly differently, or were completely different versions of the scenes filmed and used (because everybody remembers things in his or her own way)?
Here’s the problem. These are the kinds of questions that first drew me to The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby, but after paying to spend two hours watching the movie, I still don’t know the answers! To find out the answers, I’m going to have to buy either another ticket to a three-plus-hour movie or two additional tickets to two feature length movies.
That’s a lot of time and money to devote to a project that isn’t even plot driven. (I mean, if I wanted to experience the gripping saga of a thirty-five-year-old woman whose father keeps telling her to go back and finish her dissertation, I could just go downstairs to my living room and have a chat with my father.)
Here’s the crazy thing, though. After watching The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Them, I find that I actually do want to watch the two additional movies. (To be frank, I wish I’d had the opportunity to watch them first. I feel like filmmaker Ned Benson’s creative goals were subverted by the star power of his female lead.
I mean, I could be wrong, but the obvious reason for Harvey Weinstein to conflate the two movies is that he wants Jessica Chastain to get Oscar attention. He doesn’t care about narrative experiments or an artistic exercise in point of view. His point of view is that it’s a good thing for him to win as many Oscars as possible.)
Of course, I’ve also read that originally Benson wanted to tell the story from the husband’s point of view and wrote the companion piece (Her) because after he cast Jessica Chastain, she mentioned that the wife’s character was underwritten. (Correcting that by writing her an entire feature length film seems extreme at first glance, but then we’ve got to consider that writing a feature film just for an actress is never a bad idea if that actress is Jessica Chastain.)
The bottom line is, if you go to this movie just because you’re intrigued by the unusual structure, Them is sure to disappoint you. It doesn’t even succeed in giving each point of view equal weight because Chastain’s character always feels more important (and, ironically, more present) than McAvoy’s.
But of course, if you’re also going because you’ve heard Oscar buzz for Jessica Chastain, her fine performance should soften the blow of any disappointment about the structure. In fact, this film is a delicious showcase for all the fine actors, not just Chastain.
But I wish I could have seen both pieces separately, and each in its entirety without anything cut. And honestly, at the end of the movie, I was left wanting more and wishing that it were a little longer.
Here’s the thing. It’s a long movie, but given the style of the storytelling, it needs to be an even longer movie to work as well as it could. The way it works is comparable to Blue is the Warmest Color, and that film often devotes five minutes at a time to the protagonist eating spaghetti, saying nothing, gazing nowhere. Films like this are less about the plot than about the character. And if you’re going for realism and trying to encourage the audience to lose themselves totally in a character (who does little that’s remarkable), you’re going to have to allow the audience to spend an enormous amount of time with that character. You can’t really do that with two separate characters in a two hour span.
Also to me, the dialogue sometimes felt clunky. Eleanor and Connor seem natural enough (except occasionally when they’re together and fall into that trap of all movie couples, calling back the other’s earlier lines with a touch of bitter irony. The most glaring example of this cinematic blunder I can think of is in Batman Returns. “Mistletoe can be deadly if you eat it.” “But a kiss can be even deadlier if you mean it.” Connor and Eleanor never say anything nearly as goofy as that (which kind of works in context because of the tone of the movie), but because their interactions apart seem so natural, their dialogue to one another does strike me as conspicuously contrived at moments). Most of the time, they speak naturally, though.
In contrast, the speech of the supporting characters sounds conspicuously contrived a lot of the time. If the movie is going for unselfconscious realism, then it can’t sometimes give us obviously scripted clunkiness instead. Viola Davis manages to make this work by seeming aware of how weird some of her lines are. (She even has to recite Beatles lyrics that pointedly defend and explain the choice of naming the title character Eleanor Rigby, and she somehow manages to make that work! Davis is just a phenomenal talent!) But others do not pull this off as well, and they’re given some very strange things to say. Of course, maybe they’re just strange people. That’s possible.
The only other small quibble I have is that I didn’t like the score, and as the movie went on, I didn’t like it increasingly. It reminded me of the soundtrack to Drive, but in Drive, the choice to use that music made sense to me. Here, I just didn’t like the music. I think I would have liked no music better. But that’s just a personal quibble. Others might think it’s great.
I also think this movie is a bit sneaky in the way its previews conceal the catalyst for Eleanor’s disappearance. I think it should come with a trigger warning or something. I avoided seeing Rabbit Hole deliberately for that reason. (Not that the topic is all that easy to avoid. It seems like every other movie that comes out lately touches on this in some way. It’s enough to drive a woman crazy!)
Overall:
The most unusual thing about The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Them is that it claims to be unusual and then does absolutely nothing unusual at all. It does contain some great performances by a uniformly strong cast of seasoned actors, though. Jessica Chastain might pull off a Best Actress nomination, and James McAvoy gives what may be the strongest performance of his career.
One warning, though, if you watch this movie, you will probably want to see The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Him and The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Her, as well, because here you leave with the sense that when we get both sides of the story, we get less of it.
But the acting of the talented ensemble alone makes The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Them worth watching even though it leaves you wanting more.