Movies |
In America
directed by Jim Sheridan
By
Published: Aug 15, 2022
Category:
Drama
“Game of Thrones” was one of those series that bestrides the world like a colossus, becoming an instant legend. It won 59 Primetime Emmys. Including four for Outstanding Drama Series. It holds the record for total Emmy Award wins for a scripted television series and for most Emmy nominations for a drama series, with 161. The acclaim is deafening — it’s routinely described as one of the best television series of all time.
On August 21, HBO launches its next ratings monster, “House of the Dragon,” set 200 years before “Game of Thrones.” The focus is on Paddy Considine, who plays King Viserys. George RR Martin, who wrote the novels that became the series, can be tart and opinionated, but he’s all praise for “House of the Dragon.” The reason is Paddy Considine. “Every once in a while, an actor or the writers will take a character in a somewhat different direction that is better,” Martin has said. “And I look at it and I say, ‘Damn, I wish I had written it that way.”
Considine is getting the meet-the-star treatment in the Times. The tone of the Valentine is faintly quizzical. “House of the Dragon” is not the sort of project that would star this actor. His movies are smaller and quirkier. It’s like: Who is Paddy Considine?
The best way to find out is to watch “In America.”
Only one film director has made a first film that won Academy Awards for their co-stars: Jim Sheridan, who directed “My Left Foot” in 1989. Brenda Fricker won an Oscar for Best Actress. Daniel Day-Lewis was named Best Actor. A few years later, he directed “In the Name of the Father,” which was nominated for seven Academy Awards, including Best Picture. Two more films, four more Oscar nominations — clearly, Sheridan has a way with actors and the ability to plumb deep emotion without wallowing in it.
In 2003, Sheridan co-authored and directed “In America,” starring Paddy Considine, Samantha Morton, Djimon Honsou, and two sisters, 12-year-old Sarah Bolger and 8-year-old Emma. Morton was nominated for Best Actress by the Academy. Honsou was a nominee for Best Supporting Actor. The Bolger sisters were robbed.
But then, so was “In America,” which has embedded itself in my memory as one of the wisest, most affecting films I’ve ever seen. On second viewing, it’s just as powerful.
I suspect this is, in part, because “In America” is the kind of story that the Irish do best. There’s plenty of painful, gritty realism — there’s also a rich stream of magic. They merge at the start of the film. The strands never separate.
It works like this: Johnny Sullivan, his wife Sarah and their daughters sit in their old station wagon at the Canadian border, waiting to be admitted to the United States as “tourists.” In fact, this Irish actor and his family plan to be illegal aliens in New York City. Johnny presents his documents….
Immigration Officer: How many children do you have?
Johnny: Three.
Sarah: Two.
Johnny: Two.
Immigration Officer: Says three here.
Johnny: We lost one.
That lost child is Frankie, recently dead at 5. His legacy is grief — grief like a lead blanket, grief so heavy there’s no point talking about it because everyone feels it and no one knows what to do about it. Christy, the older daughter, has been “talking” to Frankie every night and believes that he has given her three wishes. Seeing that this moment could go either way, she uses one: Please let us into America….
In New York, the Sullivans find an apartment in a druggie-infested slum. The girls like America. But Johnny is stymied in the land of opportunity — his auditions are flat, he can’t get a part, he becomes one of that army of actors who drives a cab. More stress: Sarah gets pregnant and learns that the baby could endanger her health. And the kids have befriended Mateo, a neighbor — a fierce, hostile African artist who, unknown to them, is dying of AIDS.
You watch all this, mouth open, as if you are watching a documentary. Credit the writing and, equally, the performances: Samantha Morton is all eyes and hope. Paddy Considine is a tormented block of ice. And the girls — well, here’s Jim Sheridan recalling how he cast them:
There was an open audition and Emma was the very first girl. I got Emma to read, and I thought she was a bit too good, so I went to get another girl, and Emma pulled my coat really hard, and I looked ’round and she just looked at me with pity, as if I’d crossed the line of etiquette, and she said, "Is she reading my part?" I waited and looked in her eyes, and she didn’t back down, so I said, "No, Emma, nobody’s reading your part. She said, "Good, my sister’s in the car." I said, "What age?" She said, "10." I thought that was too young. She said, "Well, see her anyway." And I went down and cast her after three minutes. So that was the first two kids out of 300 — I never saw any others.
There are scenes in this movie that will haunt you all your days. At a street fair, John bets every dollar they have in order to win an ET doll for the kids….Sarah, wild-eyed, briefly loses her mind in the maternity ward….Christy sings “Desperado” at a school talent show….Johnny confesses to Mateo, “I asked God a favor — take me instead of him. And he took the both of us.” And then there is a line that was, for me, the killer: Christy announcing, “Don’t ‘little girl’ me — I’ve been carrying this family on my back for more than a year.”[To stream “In America on Amazon Prime, click here.]
Oh, the wisdom of kids. These girls find the words than no one else can say. They form the friendships that lead the family back to life. You can see some kind of happy ending coming, but you absolutely can’t see how — and then Christy uses her third and final wish.
When I saw “In America” in a theater, people all around us were blubbering at that wish; how simple it was, and how hard. Christy’s words to her father cut deep, but they cut with such love. And then there are words — three words, and you’ll never guess them — that Johnny has to say.
The catharsis, when it comes, is glorious. There’s a second one, a printed line at the start of the credits — the dedication of the film “to the memory of my brother, Frankie.” A little research reveals that Jim Sheridan was 17 when his younger brother died. But the ages don’t matter, only the emotions. As you will see in those moments when your tears don’t blur the screen.
