Another Year

Today I saw Another Year, starring Jim Broadbent and Ruth Sheen.

Tom (Broadbent) and Gerri (Sheen) are one of those rare couples who have spent their whole lives married and still like each other. In fact, they seem genuinely happier when in the presence of the other.

Mary (Lesley Manville) is the saddest third wheel that has ever been portrayed in film. She is the secretary at the hospital where Gerri works as a counselor, and aside from Gerri and Tom, she doesn't appear to have any friends.

The couple are good to her—perhaps the reason she clings so tightly to them—but even they have their limits when Mary makes passes at their much-younger son, then treats his new girlfriend with disrespect on her first visit to the home.

There is also Tom's troubled friend Ken (Peter Wight), who drinks, eats and smokes too much, and Tom's brother Ronnie (David Bradley), who says so little that we have to wonder if his bitter son's anger is justified.

Despite all the ranges of personalities, no one in the group is hard to watch (though the girlfriend of their son is borderline annoying). In fact, the group seems so organic you often forget your watching actors on a screen.

I love screenwriters who give such depth to their characters that we ache for their uncomfortable silences. Mike Leigh is such a writer, and Another Year is such a film.

A beautiful look at the unbalance of fairness in life that leaves you pitying the lonely ones and sympathizing with the lucky ones.

~~~

Happy-Go-Lucky

Tonight I saw Happy-Go-Lucky, starring Sally Hawkins and Eddie Marsan.

I hate it when critics oversell a film.

Going into this one, I was excited about the prospect of being uplifted by a refreshing character that always saw the glass as half full. Instead I was met with an incredibly annoying leading lady and a string of scenes that don't really mesh, but are forcibly woven together like an unfinished quilt.

Poppy (Hawkins) is an elementary schoolteacher that makes it her life's mission to cheer other people up. Or, she's just goofy. It's hard to tell in the piece-y scenes that have her alternately bouncing on trampolines, falling in love, flamenco dancing and attempting to help a troubled student. Each bit could have merit if it were allowed the chance to develop, but none of them really do.

None, except for the series of bits about her taking driving lessons. Yes—she's supposed to be a thirtysomething in a big city in England, yet she doesn't know how to drive. Suspending that disbelief, she hires a company to teach her how and gets assigned the Worst Driver on Planet Earth (Marsan). Not only is he surly to her, he's dangerous on the road and many of their scenes are borderline disturbing (and if they're not disturbing, they're excruciatingly irritating).

Is the film 100% bad? No. There are delightful (and more realistic scenes) with Poppy's sister, roommate and other friends that make you feel that you're watching a Cyndi Lauper video (in a good way), and the love story near the end is actually somewhat sweet.

I just found it hard to root for someone I wouldn't be able to be in the same room with if she were real.