And number two! I’ve mentioned this movie as the film that made me interested in checking out Buster Keaton’s work, and for that I’ll always appreciate it for that, but it’s a splendid little film in its own right. With its cockeyed sensibility, well-drawn character relationships, and lovely acting, it’s a unique gem of a dramedy about human connection.
Benny and Joon have always been a duo. He’s always looked after her, ever since they lost their parents in childhood. Now well into their grownup years, Benny works in a garage and Joon paints between inciting minor neighborhood incidents that call Benny from work – Joon lives with mental illness, and despite Benny’s insistence that they can get by without anyone’s help, the cracks are starting to show. He almost never has any time to himself, she doesn’t like the way he treats her like a child, and their relationship has developed with a slight undertone that she has to be the helpless loon and he has to be the weary self-sacrificer.
Their lives are shaken up (of course they are – it’s a movie after all) when an unsupervised Joon acquires the oddball cousin of one of Benny’s friends in a strangely-staked poker game. Quirky, dyslexic Sam, with his focused gaze, striking non sequiturs, and deep devotion to movies (from the silent greats to terrible slasher flicks,) takes up an unofficial position as housekeeper and Joon-watcher. He performs old silent comedy routines in public, he uses an iron to make grilled cheese sandwiches, and most significantly, he treats Joon like a person rather than an illness. Suddenly, Joon is exploring new possibilities for her life, including romance, and Benny is worried that all this change isn’t good for her.
This is a film that lives and dies by its characters, and every last one is engaging, flawed, and likeable. Mary Stuart Masterson gives a fantastic performance as Joon; she’s shrewdly intelligent, shy, and rather standoffish, and she never loses sight of the way Joon stubbornly tries to hold onto her dignity when her world stops making sense. Aidan Quinn does a fine job as regular-guy Benny exhausting himself in his efforts to be a provider, not even quite realizing that he’s veering from brother into caretaker (side note – when I first saw Gregson in Elementary, I shouted, “It’s Benny!” like a gleeful dork.) And this movie was the first that really made me sit up and take notice of Johnny Depp as an actor; his Sam is goofy, perceptive, and very sweet, and he beautifully sells Sam’s fanboy homages to his comedy heroes. Speaking of, Sam is no Buster, not in terms of sheer athleticism or comic intuition, but his routines are loads of fun and an excellent gateway drug into silent comedy.
In terms of subject matter, I appreciate the film’s earnest handling of Joon’s illness. Sometimes it’s ridiculous, sometimes it’s heartbreaking, and sometimes it only lingers in the background of the action, and in Benny and Sam, we see how people both over- and underestimate its power. Joon isn’t incapable of having her own abilities and desires, but neither is she simply a “free spirit” who’d be better off flushing her medication. Though love can’t “cure” her, it isn’t beyond her reach. It’s a thoughtful depiction that, in my opinion, does a lot of good.
Warnings
Thematic elements, some language, and light sexual content.
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