Four stars. Rated PG-13, and rather harshly, for dramatic intensity and mild profanity
By Derrick Bang
Stage parents aren’t confined to
Broadway theaters.
Indeed, they’re cropping up
everywhere these days: from AYSO fields to reality TV shows — Alana “Honey Boo
Boo” Thompson’s parents really should be jailed, for child abuse — and from
Suzuki music institutions to public school “gifted child” programs stalked by
hyper-obsessive mothers and fathers.
Somehow, in far too many cases,
the child becomes either a commodity, a cash cow, or the instrument by which
the parents live out their
unfulfilled dreams. Either way, a tragedy.
All of which makes Tom Flynn’s charming,
astute and frequently heartbreaking original script for Gifted quite well-timed. It feels authentic, with the perceptive
savvy of somebody who has Been There. Indeed, he acknowledges — in the film’s
press notes — growing up with a sister who was “the most unassuming,
ridiculously smart person you’ve ever met. When she was 5, everyone in the
family was afraid of her, she was so determined.”
Director Marc Webb must’ve been
on the same wavelength, because he has coaxed an extraordinary performance from
young Mckenna Grace.
We meet 7-year-old Mary Adler
(Grace) on the opening day of first grade, as she reluctantly boards a bus
after considerable coaxing by Frank (Chris Evans). He’s not her father, as we
soon discover, but her uncle; they live modestly in a tiny community along the
Florida coast, where he repairs boats for a living. They share their home with
a one-eyed, orange-and-white cat named Fred.
Best. Movie. Cat. In. Years.
(Just sayin’.)
Mary is no ordinary child, which becomes
apparent to teacher Bonnie Stevenson (Jenny Slate), during a math segment
tailored for children accustomed to the basics of 3 plus 3.
No big deal, Frank hastily
insists, when Bonnie later asks him about Mary’s ability to multiply large
numbers in her head. It’s a trick; she uses the Trachtenberg System.
But Mary’s precocious nature —
her best friend, aside from Frank, is their landlady Roberta (Octavia Spencer)
— also comes to the attention of the snooty school principal, Ms. Davis
(Elizabeth Marvel). Annoyed by Frank’s unexpected insistence that Mary remain
in this school, as opposed to being transferred to a high-profile academic
institution that’ll “better suit her gifts,” Ms. Davis digs into their past.
Which is how, a few days later,
Frank and Mary return home to find the grandmother she’s never met, waiting at
their door. This is Evelyn (Lindsay Duncan), Frank’s mother, a Boston
blue-blood and one-time math savant herself, who gave up potential academic
fame when she married and had children. Two children: Frank and Mary’s mother,
Diane. Both smart themselves, and in Diane’s case, super smart.
You’ll detect echoes of Good Will Hunting at this point, and
Flynn deserves credit for doing his own homework. Under Evelyn’s strict
regimen, Diane grew up obsessed with solving the Navier-Stokes equations, one
of the math world’s as-yet unexplained Millennium Prize Problems. The consequences
of this obsession, for Diane, were tragic.
Which is why, in the aftermath,
Frank scooped up Mary and fled to a world, and a lifestyle, as far removed as
possible from Evelyn and her Boston aristocracy. And, having no use for a
grandchild whom she believed merely “distracted” her daughter, Evelyn was
content to let them go.
But now, appallingly, Frank sees
the same intense fire burning in his mother’s eyes, the same obsessive
half-smile going no further than her lips.
Flynn constructs what follows in
a thoroughly engaging manner, dividing his narrative between what Evelyn
immediately escalates into a courtroom custody battle, and the cheerful,
ordinary and mutually devoted home life that Frank and Mary have built
together. The scenes shared by Evans and Grace are quite touching, but also
persuasively credible: thoughtful chats, walks along the beach, amiable
horseplay.
Grace has amazingly expressive
features, sliding effortlessly from adult-like concentration to shattered,
7-year-old vulnerability. We itch to scoop her up and hug her, which of course
is precisely Frank’s point; that’s the life he wants his niece to experience, and enjoy ... not some sterile
regimen where she’ll be cooped up in a classroom all day, surrounded by anxious
professors with old-guy beards.
Grace also knows how to deliver a
well-timed riposte, and Flynn feeds her plenty of arch one-liners. By far the
best is the punch line to the unison “Good morning
Ms. Stevenson,” with which the kids welcome Bonnie each day. Watch the expression
on Grace’s face, when she gets the opportunity for an ironic reprise of that
greeting.
Evans deftly underplays Frank’s
emotions in public, and we understand that he has long crafted a presence
designed not to call attention to himself. At the same time, he’s warm and
compassionate, easily approachable and sharply perceptive. I appreciate that
the script doesn’t have Frank “blame” Bonnie for what happens, and that she
instead becomes a sympathetic ally.
Slate has come a long way during
the past few years, making good on the presence she established in TV shows
such as House of Lies, Parks and Recreation and Married. She has gentle but precise
comic timing, and she radiates kindness and sensitivity. She also has a playful
dynamic with Evans, and their flirty banter is delightful.
Duncan has the most difficult
role, and she skillfully navigates a razor’s edge between sympathetic and
terrifying. Is Evelyn a monster? That answer may vary, from viewer to viewer,
and moment to moment; can we wholly blame her for believing, in her heart, that
Frank simply isn’t able — financially, emotionally — to provide the best
possible life for Mary?
Duncan puts genuine regret into
one quietly intimate scene, when she tells Frank, in all sincerity, that she
doesn’t want to hurt him. We believe her, but we also wonder if it’s part of an
act: a means to an end.
Spencer slides gracefully into
her role as Best Friend And Confidant: the one person with whom Frank has shared
his fears, and the one person who wholly agrees with his desire to keep Mary
“normal.” But you don’t hire Spencer and then fail to exploit her talent for
feisty loyalty, and Webb makes sure that the actress gets at least one
foot-planted-firmly, Don’t-you-dare-go-there
moment.
Smaller roles are equally well
cast and played. Glenn Plummer is terrific as Frank’s attorney, Greg: a local
fellow with enough savvy and wit to surprise the Boston-based legal shark who
stands at Evelyn’s side. John M. Jackson is eminently believable as the judge
attempting to extract justice from this mess; Michael Kendall Kaplan, without
saying a word, lights up the screen as one of Mary’s classmates.
They’re all memorable, but the
film gets its heart and soul from the scenes shared by Evans and Grace:
parent/child encounters with the spirit, sensitivity, mutual devotion and
respect that evoke fond memories of Gregory Peck and Mary Badham, in To Kill a Mockingbird (a comparison I
don’t make lightly).
Webb displayed his own gift for convincing
performances and intriguing relationship dynamics, in (500) Days of Summer, and his work here is no less impressive. A
story such as this could slide into mawkish bathos, purple melodrama, cloying
sentimentality or didactic sermonizing in the blink of an eye: potential
pitfalls that Webb unerringly avoids.
This is a sweet, thoughtful and
refreshingly wise little film, which is apt to be buried beneath the media
tsunami fueling the concurrent release of The
Fate of the Furious. Try to make time for this one, as well.
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