I watch movies as a sociologist of cinema. My primary interests lie neither in the artistic qualities of a film, nor in the craftsmanship of the acting, direction, writing, or other aspects of the film's production. These are not unimportant to me, but what I care about most of all is the film's story and its depiction of human action and interaction. On this basis I rate "The Descendants" a fine movie. Not a perfect movie, not even a flawed masterpiece, but a fine movie nonetheless. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since I watched it a few days ago. Not many films affect me that way.
"The Descendants" is a highly understated film. True, it is regularly punctuated by moments of intense pathos -- Payne allows many of the film's main characters (and a few of the minor ones) to have their emotive close-up moments -- but I found myself unmoved by any of them. However, I didn't see this as a problem; somehow it didn't bother me that I remained aloof from all the drama. What kept me engaged from the beginning to the ending was one central question: "What is he going to do next?" And the film never failed to deliver an engaging and provocative answer to that question.
At the beginning of the movie we meet Matt King, an affluent and affable character, to be sure, but more "reactor" than "actor" in his life. He lets his wife parent (sort of) their two children, he lets "the cousins" lead him, as the sole trustee of the family's real estate holdings, to a necessary decision about a land transaction, and on a bigger scale, he lets his routine work as a lawyer substitute for intimacy with his family -- he is completely blindsided by his daughter's revelation that his wife was cheating on him before a boating accident puts her in a coma.
Throughout the rest of the movie, we get to see Matt reckon with one decision after another. Virtually all of these decisions are put in motion through circumstances he has inherited. In this sense "The Descendants" is an appropriate title for the film. Like all of us, Matt King inherits a social situation largely not of his own choosing, but then he must actively choose what to do about it. How will he handle his difficult daughters? What should he do about his older daughter's new companion? When and how will he talk to his younger daughter about her mother? What will he do with the revelation about his wife's infidelity? Will he confront his wife's lover? Will he make trouble for that other man's wife and kids? How should he respond to disturbing new information about the land deal? And so forth. Not every decision is life-altering, but one by one they disclose the depth of Matt King's character. He turns out to be in possession of more nobility and grace than we are initially led to believe. Perhaps more than even he believed about himself. He's still human, but he's fundamentally a good guy trying to do the right thing the best way he knows how.
Curiously, the story relies on a legal mechanism to compel Matt to take action in both major story lines: a law forcing the trust to be dissolved within a particular time frame, and his wife's legally binding advanced directive requiring that she be removed from life support. He can't not act. This forces him to learn how to do what he's been able to avoid doing up until that point. And the more practice he has at it, the more he realizes that he can do it -- indeed, that he must do it if he wants to truly live his life. There are a couple of surprises and twists along the way, but nothing earth-shattering. It's not that kind of a film. It makes its point quietly, subtly, underwhelmingly.
Early on in the story Matt explains to the audience why he chose to live off his own income rather than off his inheritance. He says something to the effect of, "You want to give your kids enough for them to do something with their lives, but not so much that they do nothing with their lives." It appears that that was good advice. Like Matt himself, his daughters rise to the occasion when tested by trial. The closing scene is full of hope and promise of new beginnings as a family truly united.
Payne appears to follow that same advice regarding his audience. I've read a lot of reviews that describe this film as a melodrama or "soap opera." I disagree, and I never would have drawn that conclusion on my own. Payne gives his viewers enough to do something, but not so much that we do nothing but wallow in the tragedy. There's no tragedy here, just real life. What are you going to do next?
"The Descendants" is a highly understated film. True, it is regularly punctuated by moments of intense pathos -- Payne allows many of the film's main characters (and a few of the minor ones) to have their emotive close-up moments -- but I found myself unmoved by any of them. However, I didn't see this as a problem; somehow it didn't bother me that I remained aloof from all the drama. What kept me engaged from the beginning to the ending was one central question: "What is he going to do next?" And the film never failed to deliver an engaging and provocative answer to that question.
At the beginning of the movie we meet Matt King, an affluent and affable character, to be sure, but more "reactor" than "actor" in his life. He lets his wife parent (sort of) their two children, he lets "the cousins" lead him, as the sole trustee of the family's real estate holdings, to a necessary decision about a land transaction, and on a bigger scale, he lets his routine work as a lawyer substitute for intimacy with his family -- he is completely blindsided by his daughter's revelation that his wife was cheating on him before a boating accident puts her in a coma.
Throughout the rest of the movie, we get to see Matt reckon with one decision after another. Virtually all of these decisions are put in motion through circumstances he has inherited. In this sense "The Descendants" is an appropriate title for the film. Like all of us, Matt King inherits a social situation largely not of his own choosing, but then he must actively choose what to do about it. How will he handle his difficult daughters? What should he do about his older daughter's new companion? When and how will he talk to his younger daughter about her mother? What will he do with the revelation about his wife's infidelity? Will he confront his wife's lover? Will he make trouble for that other man's wife and kids? How should he respond to disturbing new information about the land deal? And so forth. Not every decision is life-altering, but one by one they disclose the depth of Matt King's character. He turns out to be in possession of more nobility and grace than we are initially led to believe. Perhaps more than even he believed about himself. He's still human, but he's fundamentally a good guy trying to do the right thing the best way he knows how.
Curiously, the story relies on a legal mechanism to compel Matt to take action in both major story lines: a law forcing the trust to be dissolved within a particular time frame, and his wife's legally binding advanced directive requiring that she be removed from life support. He can't not act. This forces him to learn how to do what he's been able to avoid doing up until that point. And the more practice he has at it, the more he realizes that he can do it -- indeed, that he must do it if he wants to truly live his life. There are a couple of surprises and twists along the way, but nothing earth-shattering. It's not that kind of a film. It makes its point quietly, subtly, underwhelmingly.
Early on in the story Matt explains to the audience why he chose to live off his own income rather than off his inheritance. He says something to the effect of, "You want to give your kids enough for them to do something with their lives, but not so much that they do nothing with their lives." It appears that that was good advice. Like Matt himself, his daughters rise to the occasion when tested by trial. The closing scene is full of hope and promise of new beginnings as a family truly united.
Payne appears to follow that same advice regarding his audience. I've read a lot of reviews that describe this film as a melodrama or "soap opera." I disagree, and I never would have drawn that conclusion on my own. Payne gives his viewers enough to do something, but not so much that we do nothing but wallow in the tragedy. There's no tragedy here, just real life. What are you going to do next?
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