AWAY FROM HER
(Review)

Memory is a vital component of what makes up our individuality. It’s the foundation of who we are as a person. And not just our own memory, but also the memory of those around us; after all, to a certain extent, who we are is also dictated by how others see us.
Memory is at the core of Sarah Polley’s feature directorial debut, Away From Her.
In this incredibly moving adaptation of Alice Munro’s short story, “The Bear Came Over The Mountain,” Polley’s co-star in No Such Thing, the fantastic (and Oscar-nominated) Julie Christie, plays Fiona Anderson, a woman succumbing to Alzheimer’s Disease.

I’ll freely admit at this point, that it took quite a while for me to muster the courage to watch Away From Her, afraid as I was that it would be a difficult film to sit through, given its subject matter.
And sure enough, within the first few minutes of the film’s running time, when the first sign of Fiona’s fading memory exhibits itself, I could feel the ache in my chest.
Away From Her is definitely the most emotionally wrenching film I’ve seen from 2006,* and it’s a singular triumph for Polley, who I’ve loved since I first encountered in April of 1999, initially in Doug Liman’s Go, then a short two weeks later, in David Cronenberg’s eXistenZ.
In her feature-length directorial debut, not only does she adapt the short story with a tender artistry that keeps it from devolving into melodramatic schmaltz, but she also keenly directs both Christie and her co-star Gordon Pinsent (who plays Grant, Fiona’s husband of 44 years), performers who seem effortlessly imbued with a graceful melancholy that favours silences and looks over copious tears and histrionics.
What gives such emotional weight to the tragic price the disease exacts though, is the tender familiarity that so clearly exists between the characters. If the couple in question had been young and generic Hollywood stars, the term would be “chemistry.” For thespians like Christie and Pinsent though, the only term that seems right, is “love.”

The degeneration of a loved one (whether mental or physical) is always an agonizing ordeal, for all parties involved. Regardless of the particular circumstances, there is a kind of emotional dying that takes place, as the life of the relationship between the stricken individual and his or her loved one also languishes.
This is inevitable.
But what Away From Her is saying is, within the confines of that large inevitability, there are certain choices that one can snatch away and hold against one’s chest, decisions (and sacrifices) that can be made which will determine exactly how many people die when the stricken individual takes leave.
Those choices aren’t easy, certainly, but they’re the difference between being prisoners to circumstance and wanderers traveling by the light of fate.

* The most emotionally wrenching film from 2006 that wasn’t a horror film like The Living and the Dead or Right At Your Door, that is.

Parting shot: Sarah Polley’s script is also up for an Oscar in the Best Adapted Screenplay category, though admittedly, the competition is fierce, with No Country For Old Men and There Will Be Blood also vying for the statue.

(Away From Her OS courtesy of impawards.com; DVD cover art courtesy of amazon.com.)

THE NIN9S
(Review)

A MAN’S HAND unwinds a short length of green string. We’re extremely close, with a shallow, blurry focus. It’s like the first moments after a dream—just fragments.
Scissors cut the string. The man wraps it around his left wrist. A loop. A bracelet.
We see the man’s teeth, the edge of his chin as he pulls the knot tight.
His fingers pull against the string. Solid. It won’t break easily.

FADE OUT.

John August is a screenwriter who can come up with scripts like those for Doug Liman’s Go! and Tim Burton’s Big Fish (two personal favourites), then can go all the way to the far end of the spectrum for McG’s Charlie’s Angels movies.
Now that’s displaying a range.
With The Nin9s—which has the structure of Go! (three discrete yet inter-connected sections) and the thematic complexity of Big Fish—August broadens his range even more, by not just delivering another intricate and ambitious screenplay, but by directing it as well.

Gary Banks (Ryan Reynolds) is the star of the hit police procedural Crim9 Lab (“This fall, Mondays are killer.”), who has a minor meltdown as a result of having his heart broken by a woman. A baggie of crack later and he’s under house arrest (in a house that he claims is haunted by a “zeitgeist”), and in danger of being written off the series by its showrunner.
Or is he?

If you’ve seen the trailer of The Nin9s, it’s pretty evident that this is the sort of film you can’t really talk about lest the cat prematurely get out of the bag.
What I can say is that this is another fantastic script by August, and his handling of the intricate and delicate material displays a steady and confident directorial presence.
He also gathers a great cast for The Nin9s, starting with Reynolds, who shows a sharp versatility here I’ve never really seen before; usually he gets to play variations of his wise-a$$ sitcom self, as in Blade: Trinity. Here, he’s given the opportunity to inject nuance and a certain amount of subtlety in his performance, and he doesn’t disappoint.
He’s then supported by Hope Davis (always a treat to watch) and Gilmore Girls’ Melissa McCarthy. Like Reynolds, McCarthy’s another eye-opener, as not only is she allowed to make a departure from her Sookie TV persona, she also gets a chance to play herself.
(E.R. fans should also note that Dahlia Salem is in here too, also as herself.)

There. I may have already said too much.
Let’s just leave it at this: if you like your cinema complex and layered, The Nin9s should be on your radar.
At the very least, you’ll learn something really, really interesting about koala bears.

Parting shot: Reviews of Blade: Trinity and The Amityville Horror, in which Ryan Reynolds also appeared, can be found in the Archive, as well as a Tim Burton retrospective, where Big Fish is mentioned.

(The Nin9s UK quad courtesy of impawards.com; DVD cover art courtesy of amazon.com; image courtesy of lookforthenines.com.)

(The italicized first section of the review is from John August’s final shooting script for The Nin9s.)