What a pleasant surprise. There are movies that know exactly the 'how', the 'when', the 'who' and particularly to whom. There's a way of making good movies, a way every filmmaker should consider, and that's the way of not leaving the viewer outside the story. Believe it or not, when the viewer gets involved (for better or worse), everything is better. We may want to stop watching the film or take their eyes off the screen, or shout, or whatever; but the important thing is something is working.
Director George Ratliff certainly knows this way, and in "Joshua", his first full-length fiction project, he exploits it: there are times, believe me, in which we become the characters. There's no big sound tricks, no more score than strong piano notes at the right moments (courtesy of Nico Muhly) and some weird noises. However, the impact comes from Jacob Kogan's face and his performance; always an important element if you want to make the viewer believe a little boy can be really mean.
Kogan plays Joshua, of course, and his role implies much more than a spooky face, a face that he doesn't even have because he's, although special, a normal kid. The script by the director David Gilbert never hides this fact and holds on to it to make accentuate the suffering of a family that's falling apart, that can't take it no more and that, we suspect, it might all be because Joshua intentionally wants to harm them. But we don't want to believe it, no one would want to believe such a thing, less so in a film where there's no prophecy from hell or religious implications whatsoever. In fact, Joshua hasn't even been baptized because his parents have different religions.
Brad (Sam Rockwell), a working man who wants the best for his family, and Abby (Vera Farmiga), a housewife who suffers a lot at home but won't accept that a nanny watches her children, have just had a daughter: Lily. If you must know how well Ratliff handles suspense, time in the movie goes by announced by the days of life of the little girl (and that strong piano note). The screen goes black and we read the numbers; sometimes only a few days have passes, sometimes weeks.
The timing of the director never fails, and the movie runs its time slowly but intensely. The elements of the house that once were so bright, start getting darker: the cries of Abby become louder, the hours at Brad's work become tougher, the social environment seems suffocating for a family that chooses to build their life at home, with the exception of dog walks in the park and occasional visits to museums. And I'm not telling you everything.
There are two key characters, played brilliantly by Dallas Roberts and Celia Weston, whose importance is (intelligently) not completely noticed. Then again, this is because we can't notice it. Ratliff handles the 'how' and the 'when' so perfectly because he knows how to handle the 'who'. We see Brad fighting for his family, constantly saying "it's okay, it's okay", and Sam Rockwell's work is fantastic because he plays such a nice guy that gradually turns into, well, Sam Rockwell (or the Sam Rockwell we've seen on screen so much); taking a very realistic and humane attitude towards the heavy problems going on in his own house. Then the focus changes, and it's all about Abby (Vera Farmiga's disintegration is also admirable), or it's all about Joshua; and that focus determines everything else. This way, the suspense works, and the 'to whom' also changes, with the constant and never forgotten provocation towards the viewer.
Answers? Hints, maybe, but nothing concrete. And as a viewer, a movie that defies me without helping me and also defies the standard genres, with the bonus of making me feel something, is more than I can ask for.
Director George Ratliff certainly knows this way, and in "Joshua", his first full-length fiction project, he exploits it: there are times, believe me, in which we become the characters. There's no big sound tricks, no more score than strong piano notes at the right moments (courtesy of Nico Muhly) and some weird noises. However, the impact comes from Jacob Kogan's face and his performance; always an important element if you want to make the viewer believe a little boy can be really mean.
Kogan plays Joshua, of course, and his role implies much more than a spooky face, a face that he doesn't even have because he's, although special, a normal kid. The script by the director David Gilbert never hides this fact and holds on to it to make accentuate the suffering of a family that's falling apart, that can't take it no more and that, we suspect, it might all be because Joshua intentionally wants to harm them. But we don't want to believe it, no one would want to believe such a thing, less so in a film where there's no prophecy from hell or religious implications whatsoever. In fact, Joshua hasn't even been baptized because his parents have different religions.
Brad (Sam Rockwell), a working man who wants the best for his family, and Abby (Vera Farmiga), a housewife who suffers a lot at home but won't accept that a nanny watches her children, have just had a daughter: Lily. If you must know how well Ratliff handles suspense, time in the movie goes by announced by the days of life of the little girl (and that strong piano note). The screen goes black and we read the numbers; sometimes only a few days have passes, sometimes weeks.
The timing of the director never fails, and the movie runs its time slowly but intensely. The elements of the house that once were so bright, start getting darker: the cries of Abby become louder, the hours at Brad's work become tougher, the social environment seems suffocating for a family that chooses to build their life at home, with the exception of dog walks in the park and occasional visits to museums. And I'm not telling you everything.
There are two key characters, played brilliantly by Dallas Roberts and Celia Weston, whose importance is (intelligently) not completely noticed. Then again, this is because we can't notice it. Ratliff handles the 'how' and the 'when' so perfectly because he knows how to handle the 'who'. We see Brad fighting for his family, constantly saying "it's okay, it's okay", and Sam Rockwell's work is fantastic because he plays such a nice guy that gradually turns into, well, Sam Rockwell (or the Sam Rockwell we've seen on screen so much); taking a very realistic and humane attitude towards the heavy problems going on in his own house. Then the focus changes, and it's all about Abby (Vera Farmiga's disintegration is also admirable), or it's all about Joshua; and that focus determines everything else. This way, the suspense works, and the 'to whom' also changes, with the constant and never forgotten provocation towards the viewer.
Answers? Hints, maybe, but nothing concrete. And as a viewer, a movie that defies me without helping me and also defies the standard genres, with the bonus of making me feel something, is more than I can ask for.