Every Thing Will Be FineWhen a tragedy strikes, people react in different ways. Some resist the emotions it stirs, others may let themselves become consumed by the pain; sometimes it evolves, changes, and defines people in ways they could not have predicted. When fledgling writer Tomas (James Franco) accidentally slays a young boy named Nicholas one winter evening, the experience creates a profound transformation in him, emotionally and--interestingly enough--professionally. His craft prospers in the aftermath of the event and his initial crisis to it. But as the years progress, the stain of that moment leaves its indelible mark on his soul.
|
|
Every Thing Will Be Fine is a drama that stretches across more than a decade, showcasing two ends of a spectrum for Tomas. Early on, he is the kind of writer struggling to find inspiration, holing up in a ice fishing shack to distance himself from his life at home with his girlfriend, Sara (Rachel McAdams). One suspects that without the terrible accident--which he initially believes he avoided by rescuing young Christopher from being struck by his car--that Tomas would have continued to remain a moderately adequate, but never "great", writer. Tomas ultimately prospers from the terrible event; but can he be blamed for that? He is told repeatedly that he is not to blame for the accident, and that is true enough. Even Nicholas' mother, Kate (Charlotte Gainsbourg), claims that she doesn't blame him when he returns two years later. Tomas suffers following the event, and he punishes himself for the incident by leaving Sara and secluding himself in a squalid hovel of a motel, drinking and attempting suicide. He struggles to distance himself from the pain of the emotions overtaking him. He visits his father, but finds no solace in the cold distance between them which goes unresolved. Sara takes him back, but barriers between them remain; Tomas never quite confides in his lover. They know that Tomas cannot have children, which is something important to Sara, but something which Tomas has made unimportant to himself, perhaps as a defense mechanism. The inescapable experience of pain and humanity opens something up in Tomas, as observed by his publisher (Peter Stormare), and his writing improves. One suspects that it is because he is forced to connect with people--those who read his books--on a more human level as a result of this tragedy, since everyone experiences tragedy, and books are more cherished when they are something to which an audience can identify. But is there something immoral about the prosperity and gain which follows, one which follows the end of a boy's life? Tomas must think so, since his return to Kate's cottage prompts him to humbly offer to do something for her to atone. His career is flourishing, whereas hers as an illustrator for magazines gradually declines over time. Although Kate was clearly in a state of great mourning following Nicholas' death, two years later she appears to have largely coped with the event, affording herself the small ritual later of burning the book in her stove which she believes kept her from calling her children back inside as dusk set in. There is a sense early on that somewhere inside, Kate is looking for a connection, a reason Nicholas was taken from her. She may subconsciously blame Tomas a bit, but she overcomes these feelings; she addresses them, even if in a ritual to burn the same kind of work which Tomas produces. In the end, she has coped with her grief, but it is questionable if Tomas ever has, regardless of his efforts to drown his sorrow.
Why else does Tomas return to Kate's home? The other side of this is that, perhaps, Tomas has realized that his capacity to write better has to do with the suffering, and that his sorrow originated on that small, snowy road fate directed him toward years prior. Is it mercenary then that Tomas may have returned to the homestead to tap those wellsprings of pain, having just finished his most successful novel, looking to acquire inspiration for the next? Notice how he surveys the surroundings: the swing set, the rustic cottage, Kate walking her dog from the woods onto the dirt road, as if assembling scenes for subsequent chapters. When he comes to her home at night for her ceremony with the book she destroys, he surveys the home in the morning...the pictures drawn by Christopher on his wall are a detail that sticks with him, the boy hefted up on his shoulders, guiding him home. It suggests that what Tomas is, whether consciously or not, is a kind of vampire or opportunist by nature, a person who cannot give, but only take. This is true on the level that he cannot father children, but his presence tragically takes Nicholas from Kate. It is also true in his interactions with the women in his life. He is closed down, and his efforts to open up are either half-hearted, superficial, or plain nonexistent. When another four years pass, and it is revealed that Tomas is involved with a publishing colleague, Ann (Marie-Josée Croze), they take her daughter, Mina (Lilah Fitzgerald), to a carnival where a dreadful accident takes place; even before the accident, Tomas is filled with dread. Ann and Tomas had revealed to Mina they would be living together--something they had already been doing--but this announcement represents a commitment, an obligation and responsibility for Tomas that he could no longer shirk. By association, he now has a parental responsibility to Mina, just as Kate did for Nicholas. His fear is the natural fear that comes for parents that something terrible could happen at any moment to their child. But for Tomas, he knows that it is true, and his response is to simply disallow that feeling to take root, lest it threaten to destroy him like his feelings almost did before. In many ways, Tomas is like the inverse of Harry Dean Stanton's character, Travis, from another Wim Wender's film, Paris, Texas. Unlike Travis, who gradually opens up and reveals his soul as the story unfolds, Tomas does the opposite and effectively shuts down as the years go on.
There is no sense that Tomas' writing has suffered as time goes on; rather, as he appears more emotionally neutral, his success seems to thrive, as though he has sacrificed his heart on the altar of success. When yet another four years pass, he reunites with Sara by chance encounter at a concert, where she confesses that he left her feeling hurt. His response is emblematic of the numbness afflicting him, and he comes across as unfeeling, even insensitive, incapable of sympathizing with his former love. On a Ferris wheel with Ann, he claims that he appears tired by saying he is "drained"; in essence, he has exhausted the fuel of his heart, trickling out only enough for his writing--the passion he confesses to Sara from the start--and is merely going through the motions in his personal life. If Tomas was seeking punishment, one can think of fewer dismal punishments than to have one's heart left to wither. When Christopher (Robert Naylor) grows into a young man, he is compelled to reach out to Tomas, to try to understand the episode from his childhood, and how that has influenced his adolescent life. When Christopher writes to him, Tomas is visibly angry by the interjection into his life, and replies with a polite but curt dismissal, which prompts Kate to call him out on his offer to "do something" for her, shaming Tomas into meeting her son. In that meeting, Tomas has all the warmth of an estranged dad toward Christopher, keeping him at arms length, and even lying to the boy about a scene in one of his books clearly taken from that day, the very personal memory for Christopher of riding on Tomas' shoulders. Even though there is no romance between Tomas and Kate, there is a parental bond all the same; of note, Christopher's father is never mentioned nor seen, and one can assume that Christopher's interests in writing came from viewing his savior, Tomas, as a father figure where no other could be found, a sentiment which Tomas clearly resents. It is no coincidence that Every Thing Will Be Fine is a story which spans a long stretch of time, because it is a journey of maturity for Tomas. From the start, he is running from his adult responsibilities, seeking to satisfy his efforts and interests at the expense of others. He believes he is being humble when he tries to compensate for his tragic accident, but he doesn't fully grasp what that means, only enduring the pain which comes. The title--Every Thing Will Be Fine--is similar to what he tells Sara at the beginning, his way to ostensibly set her mind at ease about his inevitable wish to break up with her. But in actuality, the phrase is not for the benefit of the recipient, but for the person saying it, deflecting responsibility to address the concern, and creating a wall to safeguard one's self from commitment. Tomas prefers his life experiences to exist within the safe, controllable confines of his fiction; but time forces him to acknowledge that he must grow as his writing grows, and be a part of his world and the community into which he has sprouted his roots.
Recommended for: Fans of a complex character study about grief and the forms it manifests, and the responsibilities one has to cope with, as hard as it may be, not just for their sake, but for those they care about. Every Thing Will Be Fine is an altogether soft-spoken drama, but no less full of deeply complex emotions, avoiding overblown reactions and concentrating on the pathos of the characters.
Why else does Tomas return to Kate's home? The other side of this is that, perhaps, Tomas has realized that his capacity to write better has to do with the suffering, and that his sorrow originated on that small, snowy road fate directed him toward years prior. Is it mercenary then that Tomas may have returned to the homestead to tap those wellsprings of pain, having just finished his most successful novel, looking to acquire inspiration for the next? Notice how he surveys the surroundings: the swing set, the rustic cottage, Kate walking her dog from the woods onto the dirt road, as if assembling scenes for subsequent chapters. When he comes to her home at night for her ceremony with the book she destroys, he surveys the home in the morning...the pictures drawn by Christopher on his wall are a detail that sticks with him, the boy hefted up on his shoulders, guiding him home. It suggests that what Tomas is, whether consciously or not, is a kind of vampire or opportunist by nature, a person who cannot give, but only take. This is true on the level that he cannot father children, but his presence tragically takes Nicholas from Kate. It is also true in his interactions with the women in his life. He is closed down, and his efforts to open up are either half-hearted, superficial, or plain nonexistent. When another four years pass, and it is revealed that Tomas is involved with a publishing colleague, Ann (Marie-Josée Croze), they take her daughter, Mina (Lilah Fitzgerald), to a carnival where a dreadful accident takes place; even before the accident, Tomas is filled with dread. Ann and Tomas had revealed to Mina they would be living together--something they had already been doing--but this announcement represents a commitment, an obligation and responsibility for Tomas that he could no longer shirk. By association, he now has a parental responsibility to Mina, just as Kate did for Nicholas. His fear is the natural fear that comes for parents that something terrible could happen at any moment to their child. But for Tomas, he knows that it is true, and his response is to simply disallow that feeling to take root, lest it threaten to destroy him like his feelings almost did before. In many ways, Tomas is like the inverse of Harry Dean Stanton's character, Travis, from another Wim Wender's film, Paris, Texas. Unlike Travis, who gradually opens up and reveals his soul as the story unfolds, Tomas does the opposite and effectively shuts down as the years go on.
There is no sense that Tomas' writing has suffered as time goes on; rather, as he appears more emotionally neutral, his success seems to thrive, as though he has sacrificed his heart on the altar of success. When yet another four years pass, he reunites with Sara by chance encounter at a concert, where she confesses that he left her feeling hurt. His response is emblematic of the numbness afflicting him, and he comes across as unfeeling, even insensitive, incapable of sympathizing with his former love. On a Ferris wheel with Ann, he claims that he appears tired by saying he is "drained"; in essence, he has exhausted the fuel of his heart, trickling out only enough for his writing--the passion he confesses to Sara from the start--and is merely going through the motions in his personal life. If Tomas was seeking punishment, one can think of fewer dismal punishments than to have one's heart left to wither. When Christopher (Robert Naylor) grows into a young man, he is compelled to reach out to Tomas, to try to understand the episode from his childhood, and how that has influenced his adolescent life. When Christopher writes to him, Tomas is visibly angry by the interjection into his life, and replies with a polite but curt dismissal, which prompts Kate to call him out on his offer to "do something" for her, shaming Tomas into meeting her son. In that meeting, Tomas has all the warmth of an estranged dad toward Christopher, keeping him at arms length, and even lying to the boy about a scene in one of his books clearly taken from that day, the very personal memory for Christopher of riding on Tomas' shoulders. Even though there is no romance between Tomas and Kate, there is a parental bond all the same; of note, Christopher's father is never mentioned nor seen, and one can assume that Christopher's interests in writing came from viewing his savior, Tomas, as a father figure where no other could be found, a sentiment which Tomas clearly resents. It is no coincidence that Every Thing Will Be Fine is a story which spans a long stretch of time, because it is a journey of maturity for Tomas. From the start, he is running from his adult responsibilities, seeking to satisfy his efforts and interests at the expense of others. He believes he is being humble when he tries to compensate for his tragic accident, but he doesn't fully grasp what that means, only enduring the pain which comes. The title--Every Thing Will Be Fine--is similar to what he tells Sara at the beginning, his way to ostensibly set her mind at ease about his inevitable wish to break up with her. But in actuality, the phrase is not for the benefit of the recipient, but for the person saying it, deflecting responsibility to address the concern, and creating a wall to safeguard one's self from commitment. Tomas prefers his life experiences to exist within the safe, controllable confines of his fiction; but time forces him to acknowledge that he must grow as his writing grows, and be a part of his world and the community into which he has sprouted his roots.
Recommended for: Fans of a complex character study about grief and the forms it manifests, and the responsibilities one has to cope with, as hard as it may be, not just for their sake, but for those they care about. Every Thing Will Be Fine is an altogether soft-spoken drama, but no less full of deeply complex emotions, avoiding overblown reactions and concentrating on the pathos of the characters.