Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Viggo Mortensen
Starring: Viggo Mortensen, Lance Henriksen, Laura Linney, Terry Chen, Sverrir Gudnason, Hannah Gross, David
Cronenberg
It's a curious moral quirk that while we're encouraged to walk away from
our husbands and wives if a relationship has deteriorated to the point where
their presence brings nothing but unpleasantness, we're expected to stick by
our parents no matter how badly they might treat us. Short of sexual abuse,
we're encouraged to forgive and come to terms with any mistreatment we might
have suffered at the hands of a mother or father, simply because they
brought us into the world. The notion of reconciling with an estranged
parent has fuelled many a fictional drama, but the harsh truth is that in
reality many relationships between mothers and daughters, sons and fathers
are simply irreconcilable.
That appears to be the case with the father/son dynamic presented in
Viggo Mortensen's directorial debut, Falling. Willis Peterson (Lance Henriksen) is an angry octogenarian whose
deteriorating physical and mental state means he can no longer live alone on
his farm in the snowy rural MidWest. His long-suffering son, John
(Mortensen), has flown him out to California with the intent of finding a
nearby home for Willis. The old man is none too happy with the arrangement,
as he views California as a land populated by "fairies" like his own gay son
John and his husband Eric (Terry Chen).
A couple of years ago Mortensen found himself at the centre of criticism
for his role in the Oscar-winning
Green Book, which critics claimed presented an overly simplistic view of racism. A
similar critique might be levelled at his own film's presentation of
homophobia. Nuance is nowhere to be found in the relationship between John
and his cartoonishly bigoted father. The conflict here is cheaply drawn with
crumbling crayons as John tries to remain composed amid a barrage of abuse
directed towards both him and his husband. Think the snarling racism of
Clint Eastwood in Gran Torino and you'll get the picture,
though at least Mortensen has the good sense not to have his antagonist
discover enlightenment by the end of the movie. We know that this is all
building to the inevitable climax where John will finally explode in a
confrontation with his old man, but the journey to that point isn't
particularly insightful.
Mortensen pads out his film with flashbacks to John's childhood, where we
witness Willis (played by Mortensen lookalike Sverrir Gudnason)
mistreat his wife (Hannah Gross), eventually shacking up with another
woman (Bracken Burns) and growing estranged from his long-haired son,
who eschews his traditionally masculine values. At one point Mortensen falls
back on the tired old trope of a son finding himself unable to shoot a deer
to demonstrate his sensitivity. These flashbacks never really tell us
anything we haven't deciphered from the dynamic between the grownup John and
his geriatric Dad, which suggests that Falling is a drama that
may have been better suited to the stage.
The movie's strongest scene sees a visit from John's similarly estranged
sister Sarah (Laura Linney) and her teenage son and daughter. While
the adults engage in a passive aggressive bout with Willis, Sarah's kids
have no such qualms about calling the old duffer out on his bullshit.
Willis's outdated mentality has no place in their lives, and they aren't
burdened by the guilt of having been brought into the world by his seed.
While her children stand up for themselves, we watch as Sarah struggles to
hold back the tears, perhaps wishing she and John had demonstrated such
strength when they were that age.
Amid the cliches, it's the performances that make
Falling worth sticking by. Henriksen gets the shouty showcase
role, and he's perfectly cast as this domineering and intimidating presence.
Mortensen gives himself the water-carrier role, as John is required not to
even react but to simply stand by and take his father's abuse. Despite
saying little and doing less, Mortensen quietly communicates the decades of
suffering and angst he's endured at the hands of this man who shares his
blood and little else.
