Such insignificant pieces of everyday life as a watch, a chicken dinner, a painting and a scrap conversation are of much greater significance and distressing meaning in The Father. Suddenly they are banal and untrustworthy, tangible and ambiguous inside the ever-changing mind of the character played by Anthony Hopkin, a London man in his 80s suffering from dementia.
Writer/director Florian Zeller has made an adaption of his prize-winning, 2012 namesake of a French play with a hand of the famous Christopher Hampton (Atonement, Dangerous Liaisons), making a brilliant feat. He leads audience into the sick Hopkin’s mind, where we experience his confusion as if it is ours. Zeller also exploits the perspectives of the caregivers as well as loved ones as they try to calm his unpredictable temper and organize his cluttered memories. We can never be sure what’s true – or who’s true, as characters turn up and go away and have several names and identities, based on Hopkins’ recognition. Everything is going by so fast, however, each moment particularly feels significant and real.
In the spotlight of all this is a brilliant Hopkins, struggling to steer in the mingled medley of past and present, giving such a fascinating and fierce performance, sometimes at the same time. Anthony Hopkins has called upon incredible specificity to his technique to convey various feelings and emotions, but he also has a gentleness and openness that is barely seen. It is among the best works of Anthony’s long-lasting and storied career.
Playing his daughter, Anne, Olivia Colman is constantly his equal. She also has to ride this roller coaster and struggle to keep a British, tense upper lip in a situation that’s on the verge of collapsing. She manages to put on a smile though her eyes are filled with tears, or slightly flinches but keeps her patience when her father is rude or insulting. Colman is as much of a guide that Zeller allows us to have, and she does a remarkable job.
However, most of the time we see the world through Anthony’s perspective, which appears to be peaceful at first. Initially, he is in his large, gracefully decorated London flat, enjoying opera on a delightful afternoon. But as Anne stops by to visit him, informing that she’s met a guy and is planning to move to Paris with him, Anthony’s manner changes in a sudden way. He, feeling wounded, doubtfully asks: “You?” “You mean, a man?” Later, as he realizes the long-term effect of the big news, he expresses a deeper layer of pain: “So if I understand correctly, you’re leaving me, is that it? You’re abandoning me.” His face lets out a sense of pain but he still tries to put on a composed and brave face.
This sort of conversation happens several times, over where he left his dear watch, or how he treated his previous at-home caregiver so cruelly. And the moment we thought we finally kept up with the rhythm of the movie, The Father changes its tempo and players. It is probably not Anthony’s flat, probably it is Anne’s and she’s asked him to stay with her. Maybe she is married now, living with her husband Paul (Rufus Sewell). And maybe now she is starred by Olivia Williams, which is a clever casting, as they share similarities. Imogen Poots’ appearance as a potential caregiver to Anthony brightens things up a bit, as he now has the chance to flirt with a beautiful young woman. He is attractive and randy as he joyfully says “Time for an aperitif!” Looking at her, however, reminds him of his other daughter, who was an artist, and whatever happened to her painting hanging above the mantle…? The first meeting between Anthony and Poots’ character, Laura, is a typical example of the shock Zeller can cause us. It doesn’t have to show off, but it still reflects the harsh changes happening in the character’s mind and mood. We can feel them as well.
However, while some moments of dementia are the bumps in the story, giving Hopkins the chance to let his character’s anger out massively, the process of the production design and editing is so subtle and really makes you want to turn back in time for a few seconds to cherish the delicate changes. It can be
different tiles on the kitchen backsplash, a reorganized bedroom or a slight change in the grocery bag for a roasted chicken that night, from blue to red. Peter Francis, the production designer, has done an incredible job graphicly recreating several versions of this one, enclosed setting. And we can’t leave out editor Yorgos Lamprinos, whose work here is so sophisticated but understated, like magic happening right before our eyes. Lamprinos, the winner of Los Angeles Film Critics Association for the best editing, facing a difficult challenge of crafting a story that’s confusing and captivating at the same time, and he conquered it. And with Ludovic Einaudi’s music, the composer appearing in the recently released Nomadland (Chloé Zhao), reflects the performance in a way it touches our hearts without being too sentimental or cheesy.
The flowing nature of the narrative style reminds us of I’m Thinking of Ending Things, a hurting melancholy drama by Charlie Kaufman that was released last fall. Kaufman’s movie deeply follows surrealism, which is his trademark, both movies bring up a sense of sorrow in their portraits of home and family, which should be considered someone’s safe harbors, is in fact just fleeting. The people and imagery we rely on for our self-definition seems familiar, but something is slightly wrong about it, and that’s what we find unsettling. I suspect it will be much sympathized by some particular viewers who’ve gone through the loss of a family member. However, it may provide some consolation as well.
