A highbrow comedic think piece that quotes Chomsky, the Bill of Rights, and Lolita in the same breath, and poses some truly complex questions–why, what better teeth-cutting grit for our newest guest reviewer? Welcome CLGJr, our ivy-clad master of laws and letters and popcorn.
CLGJr, here. Long time commenter, first time guest reviewer.
Let’s get something straight at the outset. “Captain Fantastic” is not a mash-up of two Marvel Cinematic Universe franchises (one decidedly more successful than the other). Rather, the unsuspecting viewer—chief among them my fellow spectator, Haus himself—will be treated to the strange love child of “Swiss Family Robinson” and “Little Miss Sunshine.” The Cash family, richly named in light of their extreme asceticism and abhorrence of capitalism, exist somewhat off the grid in the pristine forests of Oregon. The clan’s six children, the whimsically named Bo, Kielyr, Vespyr, Rellian, Zaja, and Nai, undergo ritual training every morning. Hand-to-hand combat, extreme mountain climbing. You know, the usual fare for the youth of 2015. Bo’s (George MacKay) induction into manhood even includes a little blood face paint and snacking on the heart of a deer he felled minutes before. No wonder we learn that he has been admitted to, like, every Ivy League school. Can you imagine how killer his personal statement must have been? Haus and I obviously assume he will become a Yale man.
Pater familias Ben (Viggo Mortensen) oversees these trials in addition to his children’s education. In a particularly heavy-handed scene, the young ones sit round the fire immersed in their own literature seminars. When they tire of Middlemarch and Guns, Germs, and Steel, Ben, like Captain Von Trapp before him, busts out a guitar so that we can revel in his brood’s musical talent. Instead of “Edelweiss,” though, we get Sung Tongs-era A. Mantras emerge. Never attach an adverb to “unique” or use the word “interesting” in a sentence. Repeat “Power to the people. Stick it to the man” as often as possible. All of this could have been too precious to bear for longer than twenty minutes. But writer/director Matt Ross—you might remember him as Luis in “American Psycho”—quickly injects some much-needed levity after a requisite tragedy sends the Cashes out of Eden.
Back in the real ‘Murica, mother Leslie has been confined to a hospital on account of a severe mental illness. Ben receives word from Leslie’s sister Harper (the always excellent Kathryn Hahn) that his wife has committed suicide. He breaks the news to the kids in such a clinical, detached mode that is a calling card of sorts throughout the film. Devastated, all six beg to attend their mother’s funeral in New Mexico, and the brooding Rellian even senses that Ben might be responsible for her demise. The catch: Harper has already warned Ben that showing up will land him in the hoosegow on the order of father-in-law Jack (a menacing Frank Langella). It’s no spoiler to reveal that Ben dismisses the threat, packs their ramshackle bus named “Steve,” and sets off for a funereal showdown.
What follows is a delightful romp through the conveniences of modernity as these deer-out-of-woods learn how the other 99.9% live. The family pulls a scam, in their parlance a “mission,” at a grocery store to score provisions. Romantic hijinks at an RV park generate some of the film’s biggest laughs and squirms. The Cashes wage their own War on Christmas by exchanging gifts on Noam Chomsky’s birthday. One of the imps asks fairly d
irect questions about human anatomy that would make Detective Kimble blush. The best scenes by a mile take place at Harper’s home, where she and husband Dave (Steve Zahn) swap umbrage over and sympathy for their misfit family’s behavior.
The primary reason to see this movie, as well as its most beguiling element, is Ben and Mortensen’s portrayal of him. Viggo arguably turns in his best performance since “A History of Violence”; the pathos he wrenches out of this character is compelling and nuanced. But the film provides a fairly unsatisfying explanation for why he uprooted his family to the wilderness and set up Camp Utopia in the first place. The audience would benefit from even a touch more psychological profiling of this brilliantly misguided man. The script eventually forces Ben to confront the mental and physical toll his methods have inflicted on the children, and his response is both believable and fulfilling. And I have to fault Mr. Ross somewhat for underutilizing Ann Dowd as Leslie’s grieving mother. Sweet lord, she’s a great actress.
On the plus side, the wilderness scenes are shot with grace and appreciation for the world that Ben has created. Composer Alex Somers adds lilting orchestral work throughout the two-hour runtime. At first, I thought Jónsi, Alex’s longtime partner, was behind the original score. If that name means anything to you, you can imagine the overwhelming gorgeousness and gorgeousity. And the child acting is first-rate, especially given how easily their characters could have melted into a concentrated pile of twee absurdity.
CLGJr Verdict: A light-hearted take on some heady issues swarming around an outstanding lead performance. It’s not going to blow your socks off, but then again few of the characters wear socks anyway. Perfect fodder for a weekend matinee.
Captain Fantastic opened in select theatres July 8, 2016.
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