Writer/Director hybrid David Gordon Green returns to his pattern of beautifully entwining the lives of small town characters in his new drama, Snow Angels, which depicts the act of floating through life at its simplest and purest: all of these characters, despite their numerical ages, walk the dangerous tightrope between child and adulthood, leaning from one side to the other with every step.
Based on Stewart O'Nan's novel by the same name, Snow Angels is set in a confining New England town, where it seems that young love can only be found when an older love completely fizzles out. Glenn and Annie (Sam Rockwell and Kate Beckinsale, respectively) are that latter couple; as separated parents, they struggle with the maturity required to share custody of their young daughter while simultaneously resorting to the childish behavior of relying on their parents for help. While Glenn seems to be the one who has given up on any light life may have to offer, it is Annie who comes across as the most immature character at first glance. She is the young mother who is still putting her own juvenile needs first. She works a dead-end restaurant job (something usually reserved for teenagers) and engages in an affair with a co-worker's husband (Nicky Katt). Perhaps that is why she reconnects so easily with her former babysitting charge, Arthur (Michael Angarano). What redeems, though, Annie is the well-meaning but overwhelmed way in which Beckinsale portrays her: she paints on a bright smile to try to seem like everything is okay and together, but her eyes are tired behind it, allowing the audience a glimpse of just how beaten-down she really feels. Even in the moments when she snaps at her daughter, she comes across a lot softer than would be expected in such a situation.
Arthur is very much an old soul trapped in a teenage boy's body; though he is just a high school student, he is swiftly being introduced to all of love's grandeurs and pitfalls when he simultaneously falls for new student Lila (Olivia Thirlby) while facing the implosion of his own parents' marriage and monetary security. Angarano's big wide eyes are not those of wonder or awe in Snow Angels; they, too, seem prematurely exhausted with the weight of everything going on around him. It is no surprise then that he clings to the one person who used to take care of him when he was a child: Annie. It is their friendship that is the deepest bond in the film because it is a pure, agenda-less, emotional connection.
Green expertly weaves tales of the daily grind, from the mundane acts of Arthur's marching band practice, to Glenn's defeat when he momentarily lets his faith slip and reaches for the liquor bottle yet again, to the short-lived triumphs, like a stolen moment laughing between two friends. It is when Glenn and Annie's daughter goes missing that these men-children realize all of the pain in which they have been wallowing is petty, adolescent dwelling, and they have never before truly known horror but just tedium.
Snow Angels is never sappy nor melodramatic, as Green chooses subtlety and quiet desperation over loud explosions from his characters. Glenn is the one character that rides that line, sometimes sobbing to himself and something banging his head against a truck. Rockwell is an incomparable talent in the current film business, but he pulls out all of the punches here, going above and beyond to make his character the scared, confused little boy trapped in a grown man's body that is so common for those to whom life has just seemed to happen. It is only when Glenn is considered a suspect in his daughter's disappearance that he awakens from the stupor that has become his life. In the moments that follow, both he and Annie grow up in a profound way, being forced to reevaluate their situation and try to pick up the pieces of their lives.
Some may go into Snow Angels expecting a suspense thriller and therefore find the methodic pacing a bit slow. Upon walking out of the theater, though, it is impossible not to notice that you don't feel drained because you spent the last hour and forty-five minutes bored but rather because you went on an emotional journey that made you smile warmly one minute and tear up the next. Green and Snow Angels makes you feel, and that is the greatest gift a film today can give). More than a year after the film first debuted at Sundance to critical acclaim, Snow Angels is finally getting a wide release, and it couldn't have come at a better time. After the barrage of uninspired, formulaic rom-coms and CGI monster flicks of late, we could all benefit from some real, raw feeling.
Based on Stewart O'Nan's novel by the same name, Snow Angels is set in a confining New England town, where it seems that young love can only be found when an older love completely fizzles out. Glenn and Annie (Sam Rockwell and Kate Beckinsale, respectively) are that latter couple; as separated parents, they struggle with the maturity required to share custody of their young daughter while simultaneously resorting to the childish behavior of relying on their parents for help. While Glenn seems to be the one who has given up on any light life may have to offer, it is Annie who comes across as the most immature character at first glance. She is the young mother who is still putting her own juvenile needs first. She works a dead-end restaurant job (something usually reserved for teenagers) and engages in an affair with a co-worker's husband (Nicky Katt). Perhaps that is why she reconnects so easily with her former babysitting charge, Arthur (Michael Angarano). What redeems, though, Annie is the well-meaning but overwhelmed way in which Beckinsale portrays her: she paints on a bright smile to try to seem like everything is okay and together, but her eyes are tired behind it, allowing the audience a glimpse of just how beaten-down she really feels. Even in the moments when she snaps at her daughter, she comes across a lot softer than would be expected in such a situation.
Arthur is very much an old soul trapped in a teenage boy's body; though he is just a high school student, he is swiftly being introduced to all of love's grandeurs and pitfalls when he simultaneously falls for new student Lila (Olivia Thirlby) while facing the implosion of his own parents' marriage and monetary security. Angarano's big wide eyes are not those of wonder or awe in Snow Angels; they, too, seem prematurely exhausted with the weight of everything going on around him. It is no surprise then that he clings to the one person who used to take care of him when he was a child: Annie. It is their friendship that is the deepest bond in the film because it is a pure, agenda-less, emotional connection.
Green expertly weaves tales of the daily grind, from the mundane acts of Arthur's marching band practice, to Glenn's defeat when he momentarily lets his faith slip and reaches for the liquor bottle yet again, to the short-lived triumphs, like a stolen moment laughing between two friends. It is when Glenn and Annie's daughter goes missing that these men-children realize all of the pain in which they have been wallowing is petty, adolescent dwelling, and they have never before truly known horror but just tedium.
Snow Angels is never sappy nor melodramatic, as Green chooses subtlety and quiet desperation over loud explosions from his characters. Glenn is the one character that rides that line, sometimes sobbing to himself and something banging his head against a truck. Rockwell is an incomparable talent in the current film business, but he pulls out all of the punches here, going above and beyond to make his character the scared, confused little boy trapped in a grown man's body that is so common for those to whom life has just seemed to happen. It is only when Glenn is considered a suspect in his daughter's disappearance that he awakens from the stupor that has become his life. In the moments that follow, both he and Annie grow up in a profound way, being forced to reevaluate their situation and try to pick up the pieces of their lives.
Some may go into Snow Angels expecting a suspense thriller and therefore find the methodic pacing a bit slow. Upon walking out of the theater, though, it is impossible not to notice that you don't feel drained because you spent the last hour and forty-five minutes bored but rather because you went on an emotional journey that made you smile warmly one minute and tear up the next. Green and Snow Angels makes you feel, and that is the greatest gift a film today can give). More than a year after the film first debuted at Sundance to critical acclaim, Snow Angels is finally getting a wide release, and it couldn't have come at a better time. After the barrage of uninspired, formulaic rom-coms and CGI monster flicks of late, we could all benefit from some real, raw feeling.