Delightful surprises like this are why I’ve been a film critic for so long.
Writer/director/editor Josh Margolin’s impressive feature debut is a whimsical riff on action films, with their formulaic stunts “gentled down” to a human scale that cleverly blends laugh-out-loud humor with a sharply perceptive exploration of aging, fragility and anxiety. And if all that sounds like an unlikely mix, well, you’re not reckoning with Margolin’s savvy filmmaking and story chops.
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| Shortly after Thelma (June Squibb) and Ben (Richard Roundtree) begin their unlikely mission, she insists on visiting an old friend, in order to "borrow" something from her. |
Margolin obviously took the old adage to heart: Write what you know. He was inspired by his spunky 103-year-old grandmother, who — in his words — “survived the Great Depression, World War II, the death of her husband, a double mastectomy, colon cancer, a valve replacement and an ongoing but allegedly benign brain tumor.”
Goodness, he even took bits of dialogue from his grandmother’s lips.
Squibb stars as Thelma Post, a feisty 93-year-old who still lives alone, much to the chagrin of her pestering daughter Gail (Parker Posey) and son-in-law Alan (Clark Gregg). But their son Daniel (Fred Hechinger) isn’t the slightest bit worried about his grandmother, on whom he dotes, and the feeling is mutual. They spend a lot of time together.
The story begins with a scene that’ll be familiar to every competent computer user who has attempted to instruct a clueless older relative on concepts such a folders, passwords, and drag-and-drop. But Margolin immediately telegraphs his charming touch, as Daniel sensitively guides Thelma through baby steps, without the slightest touch of impatience; indeed, he turns the process into a fun, shared experience. And Thelma gets it.
This interlude also introduces one of her tics: She often interrupts herself, or somebody else, to ask oblique questions such as “What is a computer?” or “What is electricity?” It’s not that she isn’t familiar with such concepts — she absolutely is — but she genuinely wants to know what things are, in the sense of what they’re made of, or how they came into being.
Squibb’s quiet sincerity, as Thelma unexpectedly drops such queries into a conversation, add gentle hilarity to this running gag. When in public, Thelma also frequently stops to chat with elderly individuals who look familiar, but turn out to be total strangers, after several rounds of “Do you know so-and-so?” and “No, but do you know whozit?”
(That latter bit also has a cute third-act payoff.)
Thelma’s peaceful routine is shattered one day when she falls for a telephone scammer who hits her with the “grandson in trouble” con. Fear for Daniel’s safety overwhelms any semblance of doubt, and Thelma obediently retrieves $10,000 cash from various hidey-holes scattered throughout her home ... which prevents her from being warned by a bank teller.
Indeed, Margolin’s script cleverly thwarts encounters with additional individuals who could have helped, such as when a long line at the Post Office prompts Thelma to instead drop the addressed and stamped envelope — which contains the cash — into a nearby mailbox.
Only then does she alert Gail and Alan to this crisis; they initially believe her, since Daniel doesn’t answer his phone. It turns out he was sleeping late, after a night out ... and, eventually, everybody gathers and realizes what has happened.
Thelma is shattered: embarrassed over having been duped, but also because she realizes that this incident adds fuel to her daughter’s insistence that she shouldn’t live alone.
And also — we see this, in Squibb’s nuanced expressions — because it enhances Thelma’s own self-doubt. Perhaps she shouldn’t be living alone?
Well, fie on that. When the police are unable — and unwilling — to do anything, Thelma takes the matter into her own hands. After retrieving the scrap of paper containing the mailing address supplied by the scammer, she resolves to get her money back.
But that address is far away, in another part of Los Angeles, and Thelma no longer drives. She also knows that her family members aren’t about to permit such a crazy plan. She therefore has Daniel drive her to the elder care facility where longtime friend Ben (Richard Roundtree) is spending his final years ... solely so she can borrow his motorized scooter, in order to ditch Daniel.
Ben isn’t about to let the scooter out of his sight, and he also thinks Thelma’s scheme is crazy. And potentially dangerous. Even so, she wears him down, and he reluctantly tags along ... after insisting that they be back before 8 p.m., because he’s cast as Daddy Warbucks in the facility’s production of Annie.
Golly, what could go wrong?
Margolin deliberately models what follows on Tom Cruise’s Mission: Impossible series; early on, Thelma and Daniel are shown watching one of the films. But in place of Cruise’s perilous stunt work, Thelma is confronted by simpler challenges, such as slowly rolling over a divan that blocks her pathway in a room. The parallel may be amusing, but it’s also insightful: Such an act is just as difficult, for a 93-year-old woman, as Cruise’s running leap from one rooftop to the next.
This story never lets us forget that Thelma faces all manner of little ordeals on a daily basis; this is a woman who, if she falls down, cannot get back up by herself; that makes every step hazardous. Her grim determination to retrieve the stolen money may be off the chart, but she approaches it as best she can, with grit and determination.
We adore her for it.
That said, Margolin blends the primarily larkish tone with genuine pathos, when some things predictably go wrong; each setbacks triggers Thelma’s anxiety, conveyed by Squibb with heartbreaking authenticity.
Roundtree, in his final film role — he died just a few months after production completed — plays Ben as the pragmatic member of this duo. He has made peace with the limitations and consequences of aging, and he wishes Thelma could do the same. Roundtree’s gaze is gentle, his manner good-natured and sincere ... except when Ben gets vexed by Thelma’s frequent stubbornness.
Hechinger is equally solid as a twentysomething failure-to-launch whose time spent with his grandmother — to a degree — is a means of avoiding the need to return to school, or get a job, or patch things up with a former girlfriend. Daniel’s sessions with Thelma aside, he’s otherwise an angst-laden soul who can’t figure out what to do with his life, in great part — we recognize — because of the way his helicopter parents raised him. (And there’s a sharp indictment of far too many Gen Zers, through no fault of their own.)
All these accolades aside, Margolin’s touch isn’t flawless. Gail and Alan are too broadly scripted and played, by Posey and Gregg, to the point of burlesque. One car sequence involving them and Daniel, with Alan behind the wheel, is simply ludicrous.
Unlike every other character in this story — including two we meet during the climax — Gail and Alan don’t feel the slightest bit real. Posey is simply lazy; Margolin lets her trot out the whiny, prissy, hectoring, insufferably judgmental mannerisms that have been her tedious signature in far too many roles. As for Gregg, he makes Alan sound and act like a complete buffoon.
Fortunately, they don’t detract from an otherwise delicious journey, which is enhanced further by Nick Chuba’s buoyant, jazz-inflected score. Thelma is that rarest of cinematic creatures: one you’ll want to watch repeatedly.
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