I suppose that Megyn Kelly is good for something because if her disastrous encounter with Jane Fonda had not gone viral, I probably would have skipped Our Souls At Night. Even though I have seen Fonda and Redford separately in films, I cannot be called a fan and have never seen them in a movie together, which I imagine is part of the appeal of this movie. I initially tried to watch it as soon as it was available on Netflix, but I think that you have to be in the mood for a low key movie. Two times is a charm.
Our Souls At Night is an adaptation of Kent Naruf’s last novel about two older adults who decide to sleep together, not have sex, to stop feeling lonely. They confide in each other, spend more time together and interact with the other person’s family. Because they have been around the block, they can share their lowest moments without fear that it is a deal breaker or the other person will be horrified by the revelation. At this point, the revelations are not even particularly shocking since they know a lot about each other from living in the same neighborhood. Sure some tongues wag, and others disapprove, but the real pleasure of the film is the implicit reprimand shared by the two characters when they encounter such reactions, “Grow up! We are too old for this BS.”
Our Souls At Night reminds me of the CBS Sunday Night Hallmark movies, which I loved. Most of the performances are so understated and organic with few melodramatic turns that it feels soothing. This movie depicts an image of romance that is far more appealing and achievable than any rom com. Events unfold rapidly, but I did not find it jarring. The movie tricks you into thinking that it is going to depict another routine day then surprise, everything is different.
Our Souls At Night also addresses something that has bothered me for some time. I don’t recall the details, but long after the person’s mother died, someone was complaining, not relating a story, about something that his or her mother did, but it was not objectively a big deal. My internal reaction was, “Damn, can she stop being your mother now that she is dead?!? When can she get a break.” I had that reaction during the film. When does she get to have a life? I am distinguishing this reaction from if a mother did something wrong, and the child grows up and never got over it. I’m not saying that an adult child cannot expect better treatment in an adult parent child relationship. I am demanding that at some point, your mom should be off the clock and does not owe you a damn thing. Sure mothers like doing things for their children even after they grow up, but the expectation that they should is unreasonable.
I have no idea if my visceral disgust at this phenomenon affected my view of Matthias Schoenaerts’ performance. He is generally a solid actor, but I felt like his usual big man, sensitive approach was contrary to what his character demands. Even as he is delivering his lines, his eyes seem to say, “I think that this is BS.” He sounded aggrieved, but his body did not communicate it. There was no physical tension in the way that he held himself. Also what is happening to his career? I hope that he really wanted this role because he kept getting supporting roles in movies that did well in the box office or at least were critically acclaimed, but it is too early in his career to just do Netflix films. What is happening? Talk to HBO or Showtime, Clive Owen or Liev Schreiber!
Our Souls At Night is an enjoyable film that artfully avoids stereotypes about old age and reinvigorates the romantic drama with organic performances by Redford and Fonda. If you need to have a relaxing night at home, definitely check it out.