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Garden State 2004 |
Review by Jonathan Cornwell |
Directed by Zach Braff R, 109 min. (language, drug use, sexuality) |
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Starring: Zach Braff , Natalie Portman, Peter Sarsgaard, Ian Holm, Ron Liebman, Method Man, Jean Smart
Producers: Gary Gilbert, Pamela Abdy, Dan Halsted
Screenplay: Zach Braff
Cinematography: Lawrence Sher
Distributor: Fox Searchlight Pictures
Released: 7.30.04 (Limited) |
Rating:
  (out of    ) |
Life, contemplation, and arrested development converge to stir the echoes of unresolved tragedy in Garden State, a hit
at this year's Sundance Film Festival from first-time director/writer Zach Braff. Referred to by some as this generation's
quasi-reinvention of the The Graduate,
this quirky, quiet, but elegant film strikes a soft nerve with viewers because of its unabashed originality in the face of
time-tested clichés and generic characters. Directed with an eye for the ordinary rhythms of everyday life, Braff portrays
his characters and dishelved storyline in an introspective but engaging manner; there's a sense that the film is ready to
break free of its self-imposed doldrums at any moment. That's not to say that Garden State lingers in languorous disillusionment,
but more a statement of its characters' exasperated state of mind; they see the world with a frustrated sense of detached
urgency, as if finally prepared to usher in adulthood's myriad of responsibilities before it's too late.
Braff directs himself as Andrew Largeman, a struggling actor in Los Angeles who works at a Vietnamese restaurant in
between potential casting calls. His life is altered when he receives a phone call from his emotionally distant father,
Gideon (Ian Holm), who informs him that his mother has just passed away. Andrew returns to his roots in New Jersey
to attend the funeral, where he encounters old friends, including Mark (Peter Sarsgaard), and a precocious girl,
Sam (Natalie Portman), who inspires him to confront his dark past. His life, once a regimen of prescription drugs and
apathetic loneliness, has finally begun.
Andrew struggles with his involvement in his mother's accident that left her a paraplegic, an event that forced his father,
also a psychiatrist, to mistake frustration with uncontrollable anger, thereby medicating his son to the point of oblivion.
Gideon is ready for a heart-to-heart with his prodigal son, but Andrew is more interested in examining a life free from
lithium, if just for a short time. He finds solace in the bubbly Sam, the girl he met in a neurologist's office, and her
slowly gathering affection for his quirky demeanor makes the pair a perfect match. Sam is a difficult character to grasp,
and the mysterious nature of her personality is the tonic for Andrew's own ripening self-examination. Also in the
peripheral is Mark, a high school buddy that works as a graveyard digger but spends most of his time at home stoned
and living for the present. Andrew's few days at home are highlighted by the zigzagging misdirection of all-night parties,
visits to strange places (such as a rock quarry with a family that lives in a boat near the top of a cliff), and quiet life-affirming
conversations with Sam. Eventually, he cannot avoid the resolution that both himself and his father need for closure.
Garden State could be labeled a comedy or drama, but mostly it's about healing. That Braff and his talented
cast garners numerous laughs throughout an off-beat narrative only reinforces the underlying sadness at its core. However,
the film emerges, if only partially so, from its somber tone in the final moments, which communicates the maturity of
adult relationships built on trust; although the final shot is a slight betrayal of its conviction, the film manages to remain
distinctively fresh and original. There are scenes here that are like small miracles in filmmaking. Consider the fireplace
exchange between Andrew and Sam, and her impromptu tap dance that lightens the tension. Or their scene in an empty
bathtub in which Sam coaxes a tear from Andrew's tearless past and catches it in a tiny cup. The chemistry between
Braff and Portman is palpable; they exude resistance early on and then are an open book at the end. One can't help but
root for them.
What marks the performances here is a subtlety that pervades the ambiguous nature of the characters. Braff has chosen
the right part for himself, while Portman and Sarsgaard excel in their supporting turns. I've rarely seen Portman better,
especially in the closing scenes, and it is a reminder of the potential that she first displayed in The Professional and the
colossal mistake of appearing in the Star Wars prequels, which helped her career but diminished her stature as an actress.
Sarsgaard continues his recent run of impressive work (Shattered Glass),
and Holm gives an inspired effort in his small role as Andrew's bitter father.
The film has a weakness that keeps it from greatness. Although its propensity for brilliant set pieces and wonderful
independent scenes is admirable, they are edited together in a disjointed, out-of-place manner which becomes grating
and unsatisfying. Smooth transitions are needed here, and Braff's future work should remedy that oversight. Yet
Garden State is full of ingratiating prose, a film of subsequent scenes of insightful detail and innocence in the
midst of inner turmoil.
© 2004 Jonathan Cornwell
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 |
    | Masterpiece - Film perfection |
    | Excellent - A Must See |
   | Good - Highly Recommended |
   | Fair - Worth seeing |
  | Average - Viewable, but not recommended |
  | Below average - View at own risk |
 | Poor - Avoid at all costs |
 | Very poor - An embarassment to the film industry |
| Zero | Awful - One of the worst films ever made |
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