And number two! I’ve
mentioned this movie as the film that made me interested in checking out Buster
Keaton’s work, and for that I’ll always appreciate it for that, but it’s a
splendid little film in its own right.
With its cockeyed sensibility, well-drawn character relationships, and
lovely acting, it’s a unique gem of a dramedy about human connection.
Benny
and Joon have always been a duo. He’s
always looked after her, ever since they lost their parents in childhood. Now well into their grownup years, Benny
works in a garage and Joon paints between inciting minor neighborhood incidents
that call Benny from work – Joon lives with mental illness, and despite Benny’s
insistence that they can get by without anyone’s help, the cracks are starting
to show. He almost never has any time to
himself, she doesn’t like the way he treats her like a child, and their
relationship has developed with a slight undertone that she has to be the
helpless loon and he has to be the weary self-sacrificer.
Their
lives are shaken up (of course they are – it’s a movie after all) when an
unsupervised Joon acquires the oddball cousin of one of Benny’s friends in a
strangely-staked poker game. Quirky,
dyslexic Sam, with his focused gaze, striking non sequiturs, and deep devotion
to movies (from the silent greats to terrible slasher flicks,) takes up an
unofficial position as housekeeper and Joon-watcher. He performs old silent comedy routines in
public, he uses an iron to make grilled cheese sandwiches, and most
significantly, he treats Joon like a person rather than an illness. Suddenly, Joon is exploring new possibilities
for her life, including romance, and Benny is worried that all this change
isn’t good for her.
This is
a film that lives and dies by its characters, and every last one is engaging,
flawed, and likeable. Mary Stuart
Masterson gives a fantastic performance as Joon; she’s shrewdly intelligent,
shy, and rather standoffish, and she never loses sight of the way Joon
stubbornly tries to hold onto her dignity when her world stops making
sense. Aidan Quinn does a fine job as
regular-guy Benny exhausting himself in his efforts to be a provider, not even
quite realizing that he’s veering from brother into caretaker (side note – when
I first saw Gregson in Elementary, I
shouted, “It’s Benny!” like a gleeful dork.)
And this movie was the first that really made me sit up and take notice
of Johnny Depp as an actor; his Sam is goofy, perceptive, and very sweet, and
he beautifully sells Sam’s fanboy homages to his comedy heroes. Speaking of, Sam is no Buster, not in terms
of sheer athleticism or comic intuition, but his routines are loads of fun and
an excellent gateway drug into silent comedy.
In
terms of subject matter, I appreciate the film’s earnest handling of Joon’s
illness. Sometimes it’s ridiculous,
sometimes it’s heartbreaking, and sometimes it only lingers in the background
of the action, and in Benny and Sam, we see how people both over- and
underestimate its power. Joon isn’t incapable
of having her own abilities and desires, but neither is she simply a “free
spirit” who’d be better off flushing her medication. Though love can’t “cure” her, it isn’t beyond
her reach. It’s a thoughtful depiction
that, in my opinion, does a lot of good.
Warnings
Thematic
elements, some language, and light sexual content.
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