“Good One” – By whose definition [MOVIE REVIEW]
“Good One” is an uncomfortably insightful film by India Donaldson in her feature writing and directing debut, and it is purposefully ambiguous, starting with the title.
Sam (Lily Collias) and her dad Chris (James Le Gros) are in the midst of packing for their annual father/daughter camping trip. Chris stumbles over the baby toys strewn haphazardly over the floor, chastises his young wife for not washing his hiking shorts, as if that was her responsibility, and meticulously packs the dehydrated food they will need on the trip. Sam, lolling on her bed with girlfriend and confidante Jesse, watches amusedly as her anal father worries the details. That Sam gives her dad space to be a jerk is very telling about their relationship. Next stop? Matt’s house. Matt is Chris’s oldest friend and this is his inaugural backpacking adventure. Arriving at the doorstep of Matt’s brownstone, a fight is in progress. Dylan, Matt’s son, is refusing to accompany him on the long-planned trip. Harsh words and the typical “see if I care” ensue and Matt, gear in hand, will go solo. Bringing his negative vibrations with him, the atmosphere is tense. Matt’s in the middle of a divorce and whiningly complains that he’s having to give up everything. An actor reduced to booking IBS (irritable bowel syndrome) ads, Matt is fast approaching his “use by” date. And Sam, ever the wry observer, sits back quietly enjoying the scenery, amused by the inanity of Matt’s complaints.
James Le Gros and Lily Collias. Photo courtesy of Metrograph Pictures.
This trip for Sam and Chris is sacrosanct, a rite of passage, an unspoken commune with nature. Matt is the personification of three’s a crowd. Surrounded by astounding beauty, the sound of birds, insects and trees swaying lasts only until Matt’s next kvetch. Arriving at their first campsite, Matt, loaded down with junk food, admits that he left his sleeping bag in the car. His very incompetence and co-dependence is, for the time being, amusing. Sam has a fairly clear-eyed view of this sad sack of a man. His lack of insight would be appalling if it weren’t funny. It is Sam who, in her 17 years of life, has had to negotiate her parents’ divorce and carve a path of acceptance with as little negative judgment as possible. Life, she assures Matt, will eventually return to a semblance of normalcy and Dylan, whose anger seems so incomprehensible to him, is acting out of protection for his mother.
Walking on, they are in the midst of extraordinary beauty. The father-daughter shared experience is added, like a multicolored fireworks display, to the souvenirs of trips past. They nod, they know, they feel as one, silently. But it is this silence, broken so often by Matt’s inane commentary, that reveals both the strengths and fissures of their relationship. Constantly navigating the waters of petty quarrels and the memories of immature manchilds, of which her father is as much a member as Matt, Sam’s amusement is strained.
When an inappropriate remark is made and Sam needs more from her father than a nod at nature, she sees the fault lines she had ignored before. Chris, rightly or wrongly, has a better, easier shared experience with Matt than with Sam. It is unlikely that Chris recognizes this gaping hole in his relationship with his extraordinarily mature daughter, but sadly, Sam does. Is his inability to communicate meaningfully with his daughter a longstanding trait? Does he love her less or not know how to love her? So many questions. So few answers. Donaldson has inserted ambiguity into every crevice. Matt may be the benign catalyst of a greater problem that leads Sam down the path of “older but wiser.”
Donaldson has shown amazing restraint in telling this complex story that starts out in such a straightforward manner. Parental relationships are a massive minefield made more explosive when divorce, remarriage and problematic friendships exert themselves on emotional needs. She leaves almost everything in a state of ambiguity where you are forced to puzzle out answers that may or may not be there. One thing she leaves relatively clear—the adults are not the good guys. But black and white are not the colors in play and there are many shades of gray as Sam navigates her way around what are the sins of the father.
Danny McCArthy and James Le Gros. Photo courtesy of Metrograph Pictures.
This insightful and beautiful film is enhanced by the very nature being explored, one that will occasionally have you gasping at the landscapes. In his feature debut as a cinematographer, Wilson Cameron has captured the wilderness in its greatest glory. His shots are breathtaking. Donaldson, with impeccable timing and pacing, is gifted with a trio of extraordinary actors. Danny McCarthy as Matt wears his insecurities defensively on his inappropriate cut off jeans. Talking too much and saying too little, he has probably never taken responsibility for any of his actions. Whether it’s a question of how his wife is badmouthing him or why his son hates him, at the root, it’s all about him, not about the harm he may have caused. Ego thy name is Matt. His very nonchalance to the dangers he poses to others is part and parcel of his narcissism.
James Le Gros (Chris) is the very definition of a journeyman actor. Always the groomsman and rarely if ever the groom, he delivers a deep, thoughtful and conflicted performance that elevates the film. There is a subtlety to his acting that is often overlooked and that is a shame. He always improves the material to the extent that without his character development and imperceptible movements it would be less than it is. A character actor of the highest level, his portrait of the father is far from clueless. He is the very personification of ambiguity such that it is up to us to discern what he is thinking or why he is reacting the way that he does. It is a performance so naturalistic and real that one would think it was improvised on the spot. It wasn’t and that is a tribute to the writing as well. Donaldson knows this character and Le Gros was pitch perfect in his delivery.
But the star, centerpiece and anchor is Lily Collias as Sam, a relative unknown. She is the sun of this film around whom everyone orbits. With her amused perception of those surrounding her, it is she who must right the paths that stray from the trail. Collias has an amazing serenity, shown not only in her eyes but in her very movements. Her step is deliberate, her manner warm. Collias was a real discovery because it is on her shoulders that all of the actions and reactions must balance. Preternatural in her maturity, her small acts of defiance underscore that she is still a teenager in need of support, a support that has, ultimately, been denied her.
“Good One.” Even the title is ambiguous. It might be referring to Sam, truly a good one, or perhaps it’s a reference to what is said after someone has told a lame joke. The immature and inane banter between the adults is the very embodiment of a sarcastic or cynical “good one.”
This Indie will surprise and satisfy you. See it at the theater, and then see it again. It bears a couple of views.
Opening August 9 at the Landmark Sunset 5.