NOTE: Read Cinema Gotham's interview with director Jim Sheridan.
Jim Sheridan's films are all intensely personal affairs. My Left Foot, his
biography of Christy Brown, delved deep into the soul of a man whose body was
tormented but whose mind was sharp and clear. The Field drew the connection between
land and the people who rely on it. In The Name of the Father featured one of the
most remarkable examples of personal growth in one performance as Daniel Day-Lewis matured
from a reckless youth to a hardened fighter while wrongly imprisoned. And The Boxer
showed how an introverted man can be apolitical in the middle of social upheaval. His
latest film, 2003's In America, takes autobiographical filmmaking to new heights by
combining elements from two distinct periods in his life and blending them to inspire a
more expressive portrait than straight autobiography normally allows.
In America tells the story of Johnny and Sarah Sullivan (Paddy Considine and
Samantha Morton) and their young daughters Christy and Ariel (Sarah and Emma Bolger). The
film begins with the weary family cautiously approaching the border patrol at the
US-Canada border. Having lost their son Frankie, Johnny and Sarah are hoping to make a
fresh start in New York City. They arrive in the city with nothing but their beat-up
station wagon, which they sell for rent money. After setting up in a dark, cavernous
walk-up, the family sets out on that great immigrant quest: To remake themselves as
Americans.
Sheridan doesn't hammer some sort of overly complex plot. The film instead is constructed
of the little moments, like Johnny dragging an enormous old air conditioner up to the
apartment during a sweltering summer or the girls uneasily wearing hand-made costumes to a
school costume party. The details of the film are specific enough to create this time and
place and these characters but broad enough to remind the audience of the experiences of
millions of immigrant families. That's a nice aspect of the script: That it can stand in
for the Sullivan (or Sheridan) family but also for their entire class.
But running under the surface of character-building situations is the sense of loss and
pain the family feels due to the loss of their son. Even though the characters in the film and their move to New York are based on Jim Sheridan and his family, this element comes from an earlier time in his life: Frankie was the name of his brother who died at age ten. So while the poverty, family bonding, and transition from Dublin to New York are basically autobiography, the injection of this earlier crisis takes the film into a different, deeper place.
Beginning in the border crossing
scene, when Johnny instinctually answers the question of how many children they have as
"three," only to be quickly corrected by Sarah (a tiny but devastating moment), the film is
filled with grief. Sarah and Johnny often appear paralyzed with sadness, unable to let go
of their pain. And Christy seems to talk to Frankie, narrating that he's granted her three
wishes. She carefully doles out those wishes throughout the film at key moments when the
family is in dire need of help. This is a smart detail since it plays on the child's point
of view of life as part-fairy tale, but it also helps bring some of that atmosphere into
the film as well. There is a mystical aura in In America that doesn't normally
appear in realistic narratives. The closest thing I can think to seeing this energy in
modern films is Heavenly Creatures or perhaps Ed Wood, films that tell tales
of normal people but through the prism of their own somewhat magical perspective.
The other main character in the film also contributes to this otherworldly style. Djimon
Honsou's Mateo is a fellow tenant in the gritty tenement with the Sullivans. Mateo, an
artist, spends his days slashing at his canvas and bellowing loudly, possibly out of
anger, possibly in pain. The girls eye him curiously and, in their fearless way, they
eventually befriend him. A more cynical film would have let this character slip into
stereotypical native-boogieman/mystical-black-guy-with-a-soul territory (imagine one of
Oliver Stone's ridiculous native American characters in this role) but the potent
combination of Honsou's fiery performance and the Sheridans' script helps make this
character powerful, complex and moving. Honsou finally has a chance to inhabit a
multi-faceted character and he wraps his rich voice and commanding presence around it with
full force.
The entire cast is excellent. Considine is movingly simple as Johnny and
Morton uses her big eyes and child-like face to elicit maximum sympathy. The Bolger
sisters are a revelation in child-acting as they bring incredible energy and warmth to
their performances. These are really two of the most emotionally complete kid performances
in years. That they carry so much of the film's emotional burden so naturally is really a
sign of their talents.
The personal approach of director Jim Sheridan extends beyond what's on the screen
here. The film's script was written by Sheridan along with his daughters Naomi and
Kirsten, on whom the children in the film are based. There's no doubt that this had a huge
impact on the film. It does seem to pull its emotions from a variety of perspectives and
for once the kids don't get short shrift. Rather than Hallmark sentiments, the kids here
are tough, real people and that's undoubtedly thanks in part to the involvement of
Sheridan's daughters.
VIDEO:
The anamorphic widescreen transfer is crystal clear. Declan Quinn's textured
cinematography is rendered effectively here. His bold use of colors helps the film with
its unique style and the transfer here takes good care to replicate that. Images ranging
from the near-pitch black lobby of the building to bright, sunny exteriors all look
excellent. A full-frame version is on the flip-side of the disc (actually, the widescreen
version is on the "B" side, which is somewhat annoying, since it's unlabelled.)
AUDIO:
An English Dolby Digital 5.1 soundtrack is available and it sounds very good. A simple,
clean mix, it features lively music and clear voices. At times characters whisper very
quietly and may require a little extra volume but overall the various accents and tempos
don't detract from the clarity of the soundtrack. French and Spanish Dolby surround tracks
are also included, as are English and Spanish subtitles.
EXTRAS:
The main special feature is a commentary track from director Jim Sheridan. Too bad a track
featuring his daughters wasn't also included, but this one is very good. He speaks
eloquently on the film's genesis and the personal issues that went into creating it. A
nice selection of deleted scenes is also included, along with their own director
commentary.
Those features appear on the widescreen side of the disc. The
full-frame side features a making-of piece on the film that contains some promotional
material but also gives a nice glimpse into the behind-the-scenes action. Overall, a nice
little collection of extras.
FINAL THOUGHTS:
Jim Sheridan hasn't made a misstep in his filmmaking career yet. His films are all deep and smart. In America is no exception. He, along with his collaborators, has turned in an example of personal filmmaking at its best. Not self-indulgent at all, but rather honest and sincere in a way that's all too unusual. It's tempting for critics to call this a "little" movie because its landscape is the human heart, but to the characters it's as big as can be.
NOTE: Read Cinema Gotham's interview with director Jim Sheridan.
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