
The Descendants is a great film. Not a perfect one, but a great one.
The story (based on a book and written/directed by About Schmidt and Sideways’ Alexander Payne) has two main plotlines, ones which do eventually converge. The first is the protagonist (a middle-aged, financially-successful lawyer)’s attempts to come to terms with the inevitable death of his comatose wife and his new role as a single parent. The second is of that same man’s struggle with selling 250,000 acres of Hawaiian land his family inherited. (He is in charge of a trust, and the state says individuals can’t own all that land; besides which, some of his cousins are in financial difficulty and need the cash). I will start by discussing the problems of this move. These would be the characters. I won’t say they are two-dimensional—we actually see much depth and emotions of each—but I would say they are bland. Matt, the protagonist, is a nice guy who hasn’t been spending enough time with his family. We see his heartache, his past, his mistakes, his thinking—it’s just there is nothing unique there. He isn’t stupid, he isn’t created simplistically: He just is created to be as relatable as possible, and has lost any real flaws or personality. George Clooney was probably not the best choice to play him, either. The thinking was undoubtedly to cast a guy who plays slick, successful men and place him—as his usual character—in a situation where he must realize this persona is merely a persona. It doesn’t work: Clooney is too handsome, too likeable, and too charismatic to be relatable. Matt is just like all his other characters—Danny Ocean, for example—interesting and in-depth, but more someone we want to be than someone we are.
The Secret Life of an American Teenager’s Shailene Woodley plays the older of his daughters, and while less blame falls on her acting, the character still comes off as uninteresting. We see motivation, emotion, and personality; it’s just that there is nothing unique about it. She is an angry teenager, she is into sex and drugs because of course she is. She wears very revealing swimsuits because the audience needs to know she is a contrast to the conservative Matt. She nurtures her sister, she gets into bad relationships, she secretly cares about her dad… We get a lot about her, but none of it surprises us.
Her boyfriend is a stoner/slacker. We see he has some hidden charm, but we don’t really see someone who we say “oh, that’s just like so-and-so.” Matt’s other daughter is a rebellious pre-teen—she is desperate to go through puberty, she likes using her middle finger. She is exactly the sort of character who we can connect any girl to, but she isn’t one who we can distinguish.
So, why did I love the film? Actually, I didn’t love it. It was a bit depressing while at the same time a little too hopeful; and I really couldn’t connect with any of the characters. But I see it is dealing with something great. Every interaction sparks with depth, every scene builds suspense, you want to laugh and cry at the same time during every minute of it.
I have not yet had to deal with the loss of a family member. I am not fifty-years-old. I have never had a fight with my wife. In fact, I’ve never had a wife. Hopefully these things will happen. When they do, I think I’ll appreciate the movie more. I don’t think I’ll ever find Matt or his daughters unique or relatable characters, but I think I will be touched by the themes more.
This film spends two hours carefully crafting something epic. It isn’t as much a story as a piece of a life. There is definitely a climax—the characters do change. But it is more just a look at what people have to do, because that is what life is like.
And in a way, it is strangely comforting.
The story (based on a book and written/directed by About Schmidt and Sideways’ Alexander Payne) has two main plotlines, ones which do eventually converge. The first is the protagonist (a middle-aged, financially-successful lawyer)’s attempts to come to terms with the inevitable death of his comatose wife and his new role as a single parent. The second is of that same man’s struggle with selling 250,000 acres of Hawaiian land his family inherited. (He is in charge of a trust, and the state says individuals can’t own all that land; besides which, some of his cousins are in financial difficulty and need the cash). I will start by discussing the problems of this move. These would be the characters. I won’t say they are two-dimensional—we actually see much depth and emotions of each—but I would say they are bland. Matt, the protagonist, is a nice guy who hasn’t been spending enough time with his family. We see his heartache, his past, his mistakes, his thinking—it’s just there is nothing unique there. He isn’t stupid, he isn’t created simplistically: He just is created to be as relatable as possible, and has lost any real flaws or personality. George Clooney was probably not the best choice to play him, either. The thinking was undoubtedly to cast a guy who plays slick, successful men and place him—as his usual character—in a situation where he must realize this persona is merely a persona. It doesn’t work: Clooney is too handsome, too likeable, and too charismatic to be relatable. Matt is just like all his other characters—Danny Ocean, for example—interesting and in-depth, but more someone we want to be than someone we are.
The Secret Life of an American Teenager’s Shailene Woodley plays the older of his daughters, and while less blame falls on her acting, the character still comes off as uninteresting. We see motivation, emotion, and personality; it’s just that there is nothing unique about it. She is an angry teenager, she is into sex and drugs because of course she is. She wears very revealing swimsuits because the audience needs to know she is a contrast to the conservative Matt. She nurtures her sister, she gets into bad relationships, she secretly cares about her dad… We get a lot about her, but none of it surprises us.
Her boyfriend is a stoner/slacker. We see he has some hidden charm, but we don’t really see someone who we say “oh, that’s just like so-and-so.” Matt’s other daughter is a rebellious pre-teen—she is desperate to go through puberty, she likes using her middle finger. She is exactly the sort of character who we can connect any girl to, but she isn’t one who we can distinguish.
So, why did I love the film? Actually, I didn’t love it. It was a bit depressing while at the same time a little too hopeful; and I really couldn’t connect with any of the characters. But I see it is dealing with something great. Every interaction sparks with depth, every scene builds suspense, you want to laugh and cry at the same time during every minute of it.
I have not yet had to deal with the loss of a family member. I am not fifty-years-old. I have never had a fight with my wife. In fact, I’ve never had a wife. Hopefully these things will happen. When they do, I think I’ll appreciate the movie more. I don’t think I’ll ever find Matt or his daughters unique or relatable characters, but I think I will be touched by the themes more.
This film spends two hours carefully crafting something epic. It isn’t as much a story as a piece of a life. There is definitely a climax—the characters do change. But it is more just a look at what people have to do, because that is what life is like.
And in a way, it is strangely comforting.
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