| THE BALLAD OF JACK AND ROSE |
 2005 - USADirector: Rebecca Miller
- Reviewed by Vickie
The last time this happened was with Personal Velocity, a film I was eagerly awaiting but one that didn’t exactly blow my hair back. Now it’s The Ballad of Jack and Rose which, on the surface, sounds like a sure-fire winner: great cast, interesting story, positive post-Sundance buzz and even a slot in the cast roster for Susanna Thompson! (A favorite of mine and an actress in dire need of a great vehicle.) But, almost from the outset, I suspected this might be another case of looks being deceiving, for there, amid the cast names flashing onscreen in the opening, were the portent-of-doom words “Jena Malone.” Aw, MAN! Really?!? Damn. While many filmgoers seem to take a shine to Jena’s work, the only film I’ve ever really liked her in was Bastard Out of Carolina (where she was excellent, btw) and that was, what?, nine years ago? She’s irritated me ever since, and I had a sinking feeling as I awaited her arrival in the film. Anyway, back to Jack and Rose. Set on an isolated patch of island in 1986, the story centers on its titular characters – dying, one-time hippie father Jack (Daniel Day-Lewis) and his teenage daughter, Rose (Camilla Belle), whom he’s raised solo and in seclusion, waaay off the grid, since she was five. Even though the pair have lived alone together for years and have a relationship that teeters on the brink of unhealthy obsession, Jack knows his days are numbered and begins to think it might be time to plan for Rose’s future after his death. He invites his on-again, off-again mainland girlfriend, Kathleen (Catherine Keener), to move out to the island, but when she and her two teenage sons—dopey burnout Thaddius (Paul Dano) and hulking but sweet would-be hairdresser Rodney (Ryan McDonald)—actually drive up with their U-Haul, Rose is decidedly (and very obviously) unhappy about her new insta-family. Rebellion, conflict and curious interpersonal relationships ensue, as Rose does her best to drive a wedge between these interlopers and her father. Part character study, part relationship drama and part eco-centric infomercial, Jack and Rose seems to have as much going for it as it does dragging it down. Not surprisingly, Daniel Day-Lewis delivers another carefully crafted character, with layers of idealism sandwiched between layers of pain, doubt and love. His Jack, all skin and bones (mildly reminiscent of, but not quite as extreme as, Christian Bale in The Machinist), wants what’s best for his daughter while not actually being certain of what that should be. He loves her, but does he love her too much? Perhaps, and Day-Lewis treads this line carefully. And, as Rose, Camilla Belle makes an impressive debut as a lead actress, but I found her character very hard to like. I’m not sure if that was intentional, but Rose—likely due to her restrictive upbringing and lack of social interaction—often comes off as bratty, overly coy and, at times, like a mildly disturbed Lolita. I didn’t find myself sympathizing with her as much as I was wrestling with a perpetual uneasy feeling over what she might say and do. Catherine Keener, meanwhile, has several terrific scenes (not the least of which is her final scene in the film, which is quietly brilliant) and once again proves why she’s one of the indie film world’s most respected actors. I also liked Miller’s careful attention to detail, especially with regard to wardrobe, which allows for character insight without exposition. It was the little things that spoke the loudest at times: Jack’s moccasins (he’s Earthy! he’s probably had those since 1975!), Thaddius’ T-shirt (which is about two sizes too small and says so much about his headspace), Rodney’s omnipresent jacket (which he wears like an invisibility cloak to hide his shortcomings), Kathleen’s tight, high-waisted jeans (welcome to 1986, folks!) and Rose’s entire fashion collection which, like Rose, straddles the fence between childhood and womanhood. But Jack and Rose as a whole wasn’t as impressive. The story, which was filled with tangential subplots and characters (like Jason Lee’s glorified cameo as a flower dealer or Beau Bridges’ encroaching land developer), kind of meanders along, throwing roadblocks to character happiness/contentment in at regular intervals. Jack and Rose’s relationship, and what each party believes about their love, is terribly unclear. One scene seems to play out as reality, then appears to be a dream, but which is it? The editing is so quick that it’s very hard to tell whether we’ve witnessed an actual event or a worst-case scenario scenario. There were numerous chunks of dialogue that felt very stage-y and rang a bit false, like they were intended for a theater production. There were also several heavy-handed “symbolic” shots of nature sprinkled throughout that made me roll my eyes. And there was the film’s oddly ambiguous ending, which left me a little confused. I kind of wish Rebecca Miller had been standing outside for an informal Q&A to clear up the fog. Oh, and of course, there was the presence of Jena Malone as a free-spirited!, wild!, outrageous!, gritty!, bleached-blonde one-time runaway named (*sigh*) “Red Berry.” She was so over-the-top that I just wanted to slip her some ADD medication and have her sit quietly in a corner until the film was over. Surely a few minutes of her screen time could also have been tossed to Susanna Thompson who, I’m sad to report, got shafted in a huge way in the film, relegated to, literally, maybe 12 words of dialogue and a frightening pink short set with matching headband (!) to prance around in. I heard some other audience members sighing in frustration as I walked out of the theater, so I suspect I’m not alone in my assessment of the movie. I really, really wanted to love it, but I really, really can’t say that I did. Maybe the next time will be the charm for Rebecca Miller and me. My fingers will remain crossed until then. |
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I’m not sure what it is about writer-director Rebecca Miller’s films
and me, but she’s twice lured me into the theater with the promise of
great things only to leave me feeling a little short-shrifted and
underwhelmed by the time the closing credits scroll by.
