WILDLIFE and the Art of Coming of Age

An unflinchingly real family portrait

Everything about Wildlife is solid. The debut film from co-writer/director Paul Dano and co-writer Zoe Kazan is a well-made and quietly compelling piece of independent cinema that feels lovingly and skillfully constructed from start to finish. Unlike most film debuts, there isn’t much in the way of overt political statement or hard-hitting metaphysical exploration into the human condition. What Wildlife does provide, apart from a nuanced screenplay and a trio of understatedly powerful performances, is a deeply thoughtful slice of life piece that offers up a snapshot of Americana at one of the country’s most shapeshifting times. The film is a magnificent and involving portrait of the quintessential American family that is not only stunning to behold, but which also manages to do right by it’s characters and their journeys every step of the way.

Based on the novel by Robert Ford, Wildlife centers on the Brinson family. Dad Jerry (Jake Gyllenhaal), mom Jeanette (Carey Mulligan) and teenage son Joe (Ed Oxenbould), who have recently moved to a small town in the heart of middle America. When Jerry loses his job, the ever-optimistic Jeanette decides to take a job herself until the family gets back on their feet. However once being unable to find work he deems suitable, Jerry decides to join the firefighting squad, requiring him to be away from home for months at a time, much to Jeanette’s disappointment. With his father suddenly gone, Joe finds himself the man of the house and, along with his mother, is forced to grow up much faster than he’d planned.

Wildlife is very much the coming of age story about a young man who must leave his childhood behind when changes within his family force him to see life through grown-up eyes. Looking at Joe as he observes the great changes happening in his home is Wildlife’s greatest aspect; namely, the earth-shattering knowledge that one’s own parents are actually human. It is the most crucial of revelations all children must discover, which is unavoidable and invariably shapes their life from then on. The beauty of Wildlife is the way it pinpoints such a moment in the eyes of its young, wide-eyed protagonist and observes how it effects him internally. As a character, Joe doesn’t say much throughout the film in comparison to his parents, but doesn’t have to. It’s his actions which speak the most about his evolution from child to young man, including driving his drunken mother home from an uncomfortable dinner party and delivering devastating news to his father. Even the release of all his frustration and confusion at everything happening around him is shown not with words, but with a beautifully shot sequence in which he’s seen running through the snow covered streets of his small town where the audience bears witness to the boy who has become a man.

Wildlife isn’t just the coming of age of a boy, but of a family as well. When we first meet our three central characters, we see the quintessential American family as it was known during the early ‘60s. Almost immediately the unit is torn apart when Jerry decides to leave for a job more suited to a daredevil than a family man after he loses a steady job due to pride and stubbornness. Jeanette, meanwhile finds herself unexpectedly liberated, indulging in a side of her femininity she’d not been allowed to explore before becoming a wife and mother. It’s easy to picture younger versions of both Jerry and Jeanette as lovestruck teenagers who believed the world was their oyster and that all they needed was each other. While both adopted a steadfast optimistic approach to their life together (which they tried to impart onto Joe), the idealism of their youth continues to flow through them which both are unable to shake. It’s telling that Wildlife takes place when it does. Historically, the early ‘60s was slowly, but surely, seeing the dissolution of the American family as married high school sweethearts were discovering love was not enough and that they themselves still had some growing up of their own to do.

It’s hard to single out just one revelatory performance among the three main cast members since all of them venture into territory decidedly alien for them. The usually intense Gyllenhaal is nowhere to be found here. What’s in his place instead is a heartbreaking turn full of ease and simplicity which manages to evoke the same kind of magic contained in some of the actor’s past performances. The young Oxenbould enjoys his most accomplished turn to date, subtly chronicling his character’s ascent into young manhood. Although he’s got less dialogue than anyone in the cast, the actor soaks up every monumental change his character takes in, weaving a incredibly moving performance in the process. The real surprise is Mulligan, however. Initially I thought the actress was too young to be the mother of a high school freshman, given her own incredibly youthful looks. Yet the way she projects Jeanette as a woman so determined to hold her world together until she no longer can is the kind of role Mulligan’s talents deserve, and will hopefully propel her even further towards becoming one of the premier actresses of her generation.

Like so many, I have always been a great admirer of Edward Hopper, the legendary artist who so successfully captured the spirit of American life in all its forms through his works. For me, Wildlife is the perfect example of an Edward Hopper painting brought to life in cinematic fashion. Not only is Dano’s debut beautifully staged and shot (lending to some enchanting visuals), but also takes a look at a piece of quintessential Americana and reveals the hidden layers underneath it. In constructing Wildlife, Dano has illustrated something so incredibly difficult to capture on film, but remains such a crucial part of the human experience. What the new director and his brilliant writing partner have done is documented a shifting of the times and society in a single story wrapped up in both a singular beauty with the utmost honesty.

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