by Frank Calvillo
This week, Jodie Foster steps back behind the camera to direct George Clooney and Julia Roberts in the thriller Money Monster. The film looks to be both an old-fashioned movie star driven thriller and a telling comment on today’s society. It’s certainly a departure for Foster as a director, whose previous efforts have been more personal stories about conflicted individuals. It’ll therefore be interesting to see if she is able to bring her sharp eye for characterization to what, on the surface, seems like an entertaining popcorn thriller.
Money Monster couldn’t be further apart from Foster’s previous (and currently best) film as a director, The Beaver; an offbeat dramedy dealing with family and depression, which sadly, not many people got the chance to discover.
In The Beaver, Mel Gibson plays Walter Black, the CEO of a toy company who has, for some time now, been in the midst of a deep depression. Described as someone who has lost all hope, Walter has all but abandoned his job and has separated from his wife Meredith (Foster) and sons. Yet when he puts on a beaver puppet found in a dumpster, Walter finds he is able to function again, even if it’s only by taking on the beaver’s persona, which comes with a strong cockney accent. Walter’s new approach to daily life has many people questioning his sanity, no one moreso than his teenage son Porter (Anton Yelchin), who is struggling with his own personal battles, including a crush on the troubled Norah (Jennifer Lawrence).
Hokey premise aside, very few films have managed to say as much about clinical depression as The Beaver does. In its main character, the film has found the classic example of someone who is depressed simply because he doesn’t feel like he’s earned the life he’s made for himself. Walter knows he’s blessed to have what he has in terms of family and career; he just doesn’t know how to take care of it. This, combined with other mounting life pressures, force him to lose who he is.
What The Beaver also does really well is to display the differing effects of depression on Walter’s family. Each of the four characters in the film are so well-written and drawn out, making the film an unexpected character study. While Meredith tries to maintain a sense of normalcy and cling to the hope that her husband will get better, Porter rejects his father and yearns to escape for fear of becoming just like him. The different stages and potential setbacks of depression are examined in such honest and touching ways, such as Meredith insisting that Walter not wear the beaver to their anniversary dinner, causing him to relapse, thereby showing he’s not ready to exist without it yet.
In spite of its subject matter, The Beaver does manage a handful of lighter moments. Finding the humor in something like depression isn’t easy, but Kyle Killen’s screenplay proves it’s possible, if handled carefully. Scenes such as an elated Walter dipping Meredith out of joy, only to have the beaver plant a kiss on her instead of him is awkward, but funny. Equally sidesplitting is the later scene in which a heavily-breathing Walter and Meredith have just finished making love and watching the latter notice that the beaver is panting as well.
Another reason the film works despite its unorthodox plot is because of the extremely well-written dialogue. One scene in particular is able to discuss the subject matter in ways both intelligent and poetic. The scene in question takes place during an interview on The Today Show where Walter has been invited to discuss the new toy phenomena that has turned his company around. When anchor Matt Lauer asks Walter about how the beaver is helping cope with depression, his answer is incredibly thoughtful and true. “We reach a point where, in order to go on, we have to wipe the slate clean. We start to see ourselves as a box that we’re trapped inside and no matter how we try and escape, self help, therapy, drugs, we just sink further and further down. The only way to truly break out of the box is to get rid of it all together,” Walter says. “Starting over isn’t crazy. Crazy is being miserable and walking around half asleep, numb, day after day after day. Crazy is pretending to be happy.”
Gibson does some of his finest acting when it’s just him interacting with the puppet. It’s during these scenes that all allusions to his career as a movie star fade away, revealing a deep and sensitive actor. Foster doesn’t have nearly as much to do as she usually does, but as Meredith, her frustration and longing for the family she used to have is apparent sometimes in just the most soulful of looks. As for the younger performers, Yelchin portrays his fear and complexity without even having to say he’s in such a state, while Lawrence walks off with every scene she’s in, offering up a deep and troubled portrait of someone who should have it all, yet doesn’t feel that way.
Many were actually excited about the film as The Beaver headed into pre-production. Unfortunately many of Gibson’s legal and personal battles tainted the film with negative buzz once filming had wrapped. In an effort to separate the film from its star’s scandal, the release of The Beaver was delayed a full year until the spring of 2011 upon which it was given a minimal release. Audiences stayed away from the film, despite the large handful of favorable reviews it received from critics.
So much about The Beaver could have come across as cartoonish, but Foster directs with the utmost respect to the characters, their plights and most importantly, to everyone watching the movie who has at one time or another, suffered from depression. It’s a testament to Foster’s approach as a director that she is able to make a film as unique and as sensitive as The Beaver. By the film’s end, the point becomes more than apparent: sometimes a person in a dark place has to go to an even darker place in order to finally find some light.
Originally published at cinapse.co on May 16, 2016.
