When skills are neglected, they atrophy. When crafts are abandoned, it’s hard to pick them up again. When forms of art grow rare enough, people can simply forget how to re-create them.
These are all possible epitaphs for a movie that by rights I should be praising as a model for our adolescent-chasing, franchise-recycling, superhero-happy film industry. It’s a movie for adults, a drama about family, an intimate portrait of ordinary human life. It has as good a cast as any film you’ll see this year; it stars an actor who ought to be making more films like this instead of rotting away inside a superhero suit. I saw it, notwithstanding negative buzz, because I wanted to believe that a big-screen drama along these lines could work, entertain, succeed.
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