Labor Day (2014)

Originally published in The Daily Nebraskan, 2-10-2014

At first glance, “Labor Day” looks like a contrived, preposterous episode stitched together with bits of the worst Nicholas Sparks books — and it kind of is. That is, if you’re looking at it from a realistic perspective.

“Labor Day” is not a realistic movie. No man, criminal or otherwise, is as kind-hearted as Frank (Josh Brolin), and no woman, no matter how stricken with grief she is, would accept a runaway criminal into her home the way Adele (Kate Winslet) does. Not only does the world-weary Adele let Frank stay with her and her son, she lets this man cook for them, do chores and teach her son about cars.

 If this doesn’t sit right with you, remember that this isn’t a realistic movie. It’s a fairy tale. We might notice this in the opening moments of the film, which have a kind of mystical quality. The camera moves down a highway, swooping past trees and dense greenery. Like great fairy tales from the past, we’re going deep into the forest and into the unknown.
 
This story is narrated by Henry (Gattlin Griffith), who lives with his divorced mother, Adele. Something went wrong between her and her ex-husband, Henry’s dad, and he split up with her. Adele’s hands shake constantly, she is afraid of leaving the house, and she can hardly drive. She generally carries with her a dark cloud of absent-mindedness, until one day, while she and Henry are at the grocery store, Frank appears. He firmly asks them if he may seek refuge at their home. Wondrously, Adele complies.

Seeming to fall from the sky with almost no past to speak of, full of good intentions and glowing with both authority and tenderness, Frank magically fills the void left by Adele’s ex-husband. If that also doesn’t sit right with you, don’t worry — Adele’s grief goes much deeper than simply not having a husband.

One scene that looked ridiculous and sappy in the trailer is the peach pie scene. After a suspenseful moment in which Frank is almost caught, the family ends up with a bushel of ripe peaches. Frank suggests they make a pie out of them and walks Henry and Adele through the meticulous process of preparing a homemade peach pie. It’s an unusually long, intimate sequence, and I personally found it charming. Here is a scene in a film where nothing much is happening, and the filmmakers are taking their time to observe the simple bond building in this family activity. It’s refreshingly mundane, basic and human.

There’s also the chair scene, which may make or break “Labor Day” for some viewers. In this scene, Frank explains to Adele that he needs to tie her to a chair for the night, so that if any police come she can claim to be an innocent victim. She agrees. What woman would agree to such a thing? It could be the woman who feels paralyzed by the events in her life already, but that’s beside the point; she’s not a real woman, and none of this is really happening. She’s a character in a story, and the symbolism here is as thick as peach molasses.

 All of these seemingly preposterous plot ingredients combine to create scenes of tremendous suspense and heartfelt emotion. Brolin and Winslet know exactly what they’re doing, playing two people too pure to be real in our world and too broken to exist without each other in their own.
Griffith has not been done justice in this review, as his youthful vulnerability and subtle performance underline much of the action in the film. Plainly stated, he does a great job.

“Labor Day” is surprisingly thoughtful filmmaking, combining elements of the fairy tale and modern romance to create a wonderful atmosphere of magical realism. I predict many viewers will be turned off by its unlikely premise. Others will find it a touching, oddly affecting experience. When all is said and done, it will make for great Valentine’s Day viewing.