If parents weren’t already considering limiting their kid’s screen time they certainly will after seeing “Come Play,” a new horror film starring Gillian Jacobs and “Westworld’s” John Gallagher Jr. and now playing in theatres. In fact, parents might even think about getting rid of every smartphone in the house.
Jacobs plays Sarah, mother of Oliver (Azhy Robertson), a young autistic boy who has trouble making friends with the other kids in his class. The youngster passes time by playing on his tablet, reading a picture book about misunderstood monsters. When the book’s monster, a long-limbed skeletal creature who looks like the Slender Man and a Mugwump had a baby, escapes Oliver’s device Sarah must fight her own disbelief and later, a real threat to her family.
“Come Play” began life as “Larry,” a short film by Jacob Chase and for better and for worse, Chase hasn’t changed the story that much for its adaptation to feature length.
Part of the beauty of “Come Play” is its simplicity. A study in friendship, the effects of loneliness and divorce and the complicated relationships kids have with “the other,” the movie is a slow burn that gives the viewer time to immerse themselves in Oliver’s world. It effectively builds an atmosphere of evolving tension, but it takes time.
Chase isn’t interested in easy scares, he’s making something larger, a monster movie that is an allegory for childhood loneliness and alienation. There is the odd jump scare but the tension comes from the story’s suspense and the connection to the characters. Oddly, for a monster movie of a sort, the creature is the least compelling part of the film. His bony limps and toothy snarl are the stuff of nightmares but the story is about much more than a boogeyman.
Unfortunately, I can’t tell you more without giving away a plot point but I can say that the creature, Larry, represents more than simple terror.
“Come Play” is short on story but long on ideas. It’s a horror film that isn’t afraid to not be outright scary. Instead it mines psychological and primal fears to create an unsettling story.
“Marriage Story” is not a first date movie. It is a three hankie, emotionally fraught movie about appealing but damaged people whose divorce is filled with a sense of loss and a growing shroud of incivility.
Adam Driver is Charlie, a hotshot avant-garde theatre director living and working in Brooklyn, New York with his wife Nicole (Scarlett Johansson). She is a former movie star with a list of teen comedies to her credit. They met at a party, instantly fell in love, had son Henry (Azhy Robertson) all was well until it wasn’t. Charlie may have slept with a stage manager but it’s Nicole’s growing dissatisfaction that widen the chasm between them. “I never really came alive for myself,” she says. “I was only feeding his aliveness.”
What begins as a simple conscious uncoupling becomes complicated when Nicole accepts a starring role on a television series based in Los Angeles, taking Henry to live with her. The family, stretched between two coasts and two careers, wears thin and soon the pressures of the split take their toll. “It’s not as simple as not being in love anymore,” says Nicole.
On my way into the press screening for “Marriage Story” a publicist handed me a small package of Kleenex branded with the movie’s logo. “I won’t need these,” I thought. “I’m a professional, here to dispassionately judge this film on its merits. I made it through ‘Kramer vs. Kramer’ like a dry-eyed superman and if I can do that, I can do anything.” I’m not too proud to tell you that I was glad I had the Kleenexes. “Marriage Story” is so agonizingly vivid, so without melodrama, that I felt at times as though I was a voyeur, that I shouldn’t be watching some of these emotionally charged scenes. As Charlie and Nicole drift apart and lawyers, like the ruthless Nora Fanshaw (Laura Dern in full beast mode), become involved the idea that they might have a chance of staying friends once this is all said and done becomes heartbreakingly remote.
Driver and Johansson convincingly play the bond that made them a couple and as it unravels both reveal the fatal flaws that drove a wedge between them. The two actors, unshackled from the constraints of the blockbusters that pay for their Italian castle retreats, dig deep, wallowing in their character’s self-absorption and anger.
Johansson, in full monologue mode, thrills in a lengthy speech detailing her state of mind. And do not even get me started by Driver’s final scene with his son as he reads a long-forgotten note. (NO SPOILERS HERE) Director Noah Baumbach keeps those scenes—and the entire movie for that matter—uncluttered. Simple and direct, he allows the actors to do the heavy lifting with naturalistic performances and both pack a wallop.
“Marriage Story” may not be a great choice for a first date but the emotional, sincere truth Baumbach and cast wring out of the material is best seen with a companion, or at the very least a package of Kleenex.
