Rebel in the Rye is a generally lackluster, forgettable biopic about J. D. Salinger’s life starring Nicholas Hoult, who is a good actor, but he brought more life to the screen as a teenage zombie in love in Warm Bodies than as one of the most beloved American writers of the twentieth century. It does not help that the film was released during the fall of 2017 when the supply of historical dramas was higher than the demand. Even if judged alongside its competitors, which includes Goodbye Christopher Robin, Professor Marston and the Wonder Woman, Mark Felt: The Man Who Brought Down the White House and Breathe, it is the weakest of the bunch, but I would not place the blame squarely on Hoult’s shoulders.
Rebel in the Rye was Danny Strong’s directorial debut, and while he may have had success as an actor, a producer, a writer and a director of television shows, it is rare to be good at everything. In this film adaptation of J. D. Salinger: A Life, a biography by Kenneth Slawenski, it feels as if Strong never had a clear vision of what he wanted to convey to the audience about Salinger’s life. The unifying theme of the story seems to be how Salinger defines what being a writer means to him as he evolves from wanting to be published to simply finding joy in writing his version of the truth. The actual depiction of Salinger’s life seems framed by PTSD, which is not actually the central theme of the story. Strong also starts the movie with a narrative technique, which I despise, the how we got here trope, by showing Salinger unable to write. We see that scene again in the middle of the movie then advance beyond it to see how he was able to overcome trauma enough so he could resume writing.
Goodbye Christopher Robin also featured a writer who suffered with PTSD and how war changed his writing and used a similar narrative device, but because the central theme of the movie was different types of trauma, it worked whereas Rebel in the Rye really wants to dissect how Salinger became a writer and fails at examining him as a person. Early in the film, before he fought in World War II, there is a friend who is always by his side, but he is a two dimensional character who only exists as Salinger’s cheerleader. I’m not suggesting that more time should have been devoted to this person, but this movie showed that it was capable of introducing some characters that have limited screen time such as his literary agent, played by Sarah Paulson, who still feel like a three dimensional character. If this inconsistency in its depictions of characters and relationships was meant to reflect Salinger’s failure to have healthy, normal relationships and a sense of detachment from the people in his life, it is still not successful because it feels like an accident, not a creative choice.
For instance, Kevin Spacey is a headliner in Rebel in the Rye because this movie was in theaters before he was correctly called out for his sexual abusive history, but his role is actually smaller than expected. Spacey plays against type and starts as a strong figure then gradually ebbs into obscurity. His body language is magnificent. Strong succeeds at eliciting great performances from notable actors such as Spacey, Hope Davis, Victor Garber, and Paulson, but it is almost as if their performances were cut short so they would not detract from the main character and/or the other actors failed to capture the attention of the audience as effectively so it feels dull when they’re gone. There is no rhythm or sense of momentum as people go in and out of Salinger’s life, which makes the whole story rather dull. Hoult has no other person whom he can play opposite throughout the whole movie, and the best portraits have great foils.
Rebel in the Rye also suffers from a whitewashing problem. Have a problematic favorite, but own it. Salinger always had a penchant for liking young girls and was notorious for the hypocrisy of not wanting attention yet using his fame to get what he wants. It seems unlikely that he coincidentally gets into relationships with daughters of famous writers. While the film addresses the hypocrisy of his hostility and quest for inner peace, it ignores or minimizes his most egregious flaws.
I watched Rebel in the Rye with mom, and she is normally not aggrieved even if she did not like what she watched, but after I told her that Salinger lived until his nineties, she felt cheated because the movie made it seem as if he only meditated and wrote, which I know wasn’t true. To be fair, I have no idea if the movie’s limited focus mirrors the book.
The most visually electric scene in Rebel in the Rye is when Salinger appears to be confronted by his creation invading real life before reality sets in. It is like a nightmarish reprise to Pygmalion and shows that Strong may need to work on more oneiric material. The war montage works, but is dissonant when Salinger later states that he wrote while he was fighting, and the movie failed to show how that works. In Goodbye Christopher Robin, Milne makes a joke about doing that to highlight the absurdity that one would be able to do what Salinger claims that he did, and his audience fails to get it. I suppose that the cinematic Milne’s lesson stayed with me.
In the interest of full disclosure, I could be a bit biased when it comes to Salinger. While I enjoyed his books, they never lingered long after I read them, and his brand of anger never resonated with me—oh poor me, I have so many opportunities and resources. I know that we are supposed to think of his father as an insensitive lout, but I admired how he deferred to his wife even as he thought his child was impractical. He creates space for the possibility that he could be wrong, and his wife and son could be right. Even when he does not have faith, he acts as if miracles are possible while not believing in them after they happen. I saw a man that empathized with his son’s ambitions, but still wanted to protect his child and insure that his child would be able to provide for himself after he was gone. Garber infused this man with gentleness and love for his family restrained by the pain of life experiences that Salinger lacked the imagination and failed to ever empathize with his father, which made me dislike him more. I wanted to know more about his father’s story because he felt more like a story of success on how to live well.
If you are interested in movies about writers and want to choose between Goodbye Christopher Robin and Rebel in the Rye, watch Goodbye Christopher Robin. Instead of Rebel in the Rye, see the documentary Salinger. If you adore the cast, then give it a chance, but it largely fell short of what I had hoped to see.