If you’ve been dismayed by the absence of real people and relatable stories in recent films, you’ll love this one.
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| Ruby (Emilia Jones, left) is mortified when she's forced to vividly translate the intimate, ah, "medical problem" that is plaguing her parents (Troy Kotsur and Marlee Matlin), while a mildly amused doctor takes in every detail. |
The setting is modern-day Gloucester, Mass. Ruby Rossi (Emilia Jones) wakens each day at 3 a.m., in order to join her father Frank (Troy Kotsur) and slightly older brother Leo (Daniel Durant) on the family’s fishing boat; the daily catch keeps a roof over their heads. Ruby’s participation is essential, because she’s the conduit to all the buyers and other fisherman; she’s her family’s sole hearing member (which is to say, a Child Of Deaf Adults).
Her father, mother (Marlee Matlin, as Jackie) and brother are culturally deaf, relying on sign language to communicate with each other, and with Ruby … and relying on her as interpreter (which can get embarrassing during, say, visits to a doctor).
After each early morning’s ocean excursion, Ruby bicycles to the local high school, where she tries to avoid falling asleep during her senior year classes. She’s long been the target of cruel taunts, in part due to her “weird” family, and also because she often arrives smelling strongly of fish. Best — and only — friend Gertie (Amy Forsyth) is her sole salvation.
The plan, up to this point, has been for Ruby to join the family business full-time after graduation: something she never has thought to question.
But one otherwise ordinary day, as all students select an elective class, she impulsively signs up for choir … mostly because she has been silently crushing on Miles (Ferdia Walsh-Peelo), who also did so. Truth be told, Ruby has grown up adoring all sorts of music, particularly that of obscure pop/rock bands.
The first choir session is deeply intimidating, thanks to the flamboyantly formal behavior of instructor Bernardo Villalobos (Eugenio Derbez, who deserves an Oscar nomination). His almost regal bearing would elicit snickers of derision, if he weren’t also so damn intimidating. But that’s all surface; it quickly becomes apparent that he’s one of those sublimely talented teachers who makes a difference in young lives.
He quickly recognizes that Ruby is talented. Quite talented. Even if it takes her awhile to accept this opinion.
Entirely by coincidence, Villalobos assigns her to work up a duet with Miles, which enhances Ruby’s subsequent anguish.
The added rehearsal sessions put her life into overload, and — worse yet — her parents don’t understand this “sudden” interest in singing. Frank and Jackie have long taken their daughter for granted, and clearly never even considered any other future for her. “If I were blind,” Jackie waspishly signs, “would you take up painting?” (Ouch.)
But I don’t wish to suggest that Frank and Jackie are unkind parents: far from it. “Expectation” isn’t synonymous with cruelty. The overall family dynamic is wonderfully messy, with plenty of good-natured bickering based — always — on strong love. Ruby and Leo have long excelled at calling each other outrageously vulgar nicknames; everybody pitches in to make do while constantly living at the financial edge.
Frank and Jackie also enjoy an earthy and vivacious sex life, unapologetically “out there” to a degree that mortifies their two children.
Indeed, Kotsur is a stitch, with the positively dazzling display of signs with which Frank passionately communicates his every word and thought. (I’m pretty sure many of his gestures aren’t standard-issue American Sign Language, but they’re certainly expressive. And laugh-out-loud funny.)
Don’t worry; everything is subtitled.
Frank’s devotion to the business that has been handed down from his grandfather notwithstanding, he soon senses that music isn’t merely a passing phase in his daughter’s life. Kotsur’s thoughtful, sidelong gazes reveal awareness and compassion.
Leo similarly perceives this shift in his sister, and he’s firmly on her side, for reasons that aren’t entirely altruistic. No matter how much he loves Ruby, he has become old enough to resent being overlooked because she’s reflexively regarded as “the fixer.” He has ideas for the family business, which are worth considering, but he’s too often ignored. Durant’s clouded, wounded bearing, reflecting deeply hurt feelings, is palpably painful.
For most of the first act, Matlin’s Jackie seems self-centered and ostentatiously earthy: a latter-day hippie in sandals and gaily colored (if simple) clothes. But the rich subtlety of Jackie’s personality, and Matlin’s performance, soon remind us why she won an Academy Award for 1986’s Children of a Lesser God. Her stand-out moment comes late in the third act, during a telling mother/daughter chat.
Derbez is a revelation. He puts linguistic grace into every syllable of Villalobos’ classroom instruction, and frequently erupts into fiery vocal exercises intended to arouse passion from his shy or reticent students. To repeat one of my favorite (but rarely employed) statements of admiration, I’d watch this guy shop for groceries; I’m sure his every move would be captivating.
Walsh-Peelo hits all the right notes as the often abashed, slightly nerdy Miles; his developing bond with Ruby is sweet and touching. Heder clearly remembers what it’s like, to be a love-struck teenager. I love the way Ruby’s embarrassment prompts an unusual compromise, when she and Miles begin to rehearse their duet: such a touching “solution.”
Forsyth also is just-right as the boldly flirty Gertie: a best friend who makes no demands, and is loyally at Ruby’s side.
Jones dominates this film, much the way Ruby holds her family together. This is a breakout performance, and Jones is gonna be a star. The richness of her work here is genuine, poignant, heartwarming and (often) agonizing. Heder elicits a natural grace that never, ever feels less than persuasively authentic.
Heder crafts this story with care, weaving several key subplots into a captivating narrative quilt. My one complaint concerns a late-entry crisis resulting from Ruby’s absence on the boat, on a crucial morning: a hiccup that produces a ludicrously contrived result. I mean, seriously???
That hiccup aside, Heder builds her story to a satisfying final scene: not exactly a “conclusion,” in the usual cinematic sense, since a few key issues aren’t entirely resolved. But that’s the sloppiness of life, right? Things don’t get boxed and tied up with a bow; that’s Hollywood fiction.
Heder is more savvy than that.
Beautifully written. Thanks...
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