Rated R for disturbing violent behavior, sexual content including graphic dialgoue, pervasive language and drug content - some in the presence of a child
Cast: Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Natalie Portman, Rainn Wilson, Devin Brochu, Piper Laurie
Director: Spencer Susser
The title refers to the name of the central character, and I suspected at some point there would be a corner turned, a curtain pulled back, and a truth unearthed that would give a semblance of meaning to the motivation behind his bizarre, aggressive behavior. About two-thirds in, however, the realization took over that there would be no corner turned, no curtain, and no truth. The impulsive, violent, twenty-something malcontent at the story's center is an accidental catalyst of sorts... a character whose asinine antics don't exactly bring the members of a broken family together, but do antagonize each out of their respective shells.
That's not a bad thing, but the film makes an error late by forcing him into a funeral scene where he doesn't belong, has him deliver an awkward speech with no insight that nonetheless stirs the family members into an emotional release. It's a moment too hard to swallow. The most perceptive movies about unredeemable characters are ones that don't try to redeem them.
Hesher (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is a homeless, often-shirtless, heavy-metal loving drifter. He infiltrates the homestead of a family so deeply embroiled in dysfunction following a tragedy that none of the members have the intestinal fortitude to ask him to leave. Hesher's ingress is born from a chance encounter with a pre-teen outcast named T.J. (Devin Brochu), who we learn recently lost his mother in a devastating automobile accident. T.J. and Hesher don't exactly form a bond. Hesher is manipulative and cruel, gleefully exacerbating the conflict between T.J. and a school bully. The impetuous drifter soon forces his way into T.J.'s home and proceeds to move into their garage. T.J.'s father, Paul (Rainn Wilson) spends his days in a drug-induced stupor to combat his guilt while his grandmother, Madeleine (Piper Laurie) dutifully keeps the home in order, although lacks the resonance of attitude to get through to either Paul or T.J.
At first, T.J. attempts to entice Hesher into being a bodyguard of sorts, but those efforts are met with indifference. Instead, Hesher responds by driving T.J. to his bully's home, sets the bully's car afire, then leaves T.J. to take the fall. T.J. soon rebuffs Hesher's companionship and instead seeks solace in the company of a sympathetic grocery store cashier named Nicole (Natalie Portman). It's only a matter of time before Hesher messes up their friendship as well.
The movie is at its best when it sits back and observes the unfolding relationships. It does contain a couple effective scenes. (The best involves Hesher showing Madeleine how to smoke her medicinal marijuana through a bong. It's the closest he comes to being likable.) The problem came in the final act, where it seemed that Hesher was being forced down my throat. I felt like co-writer/director Spencer Susser was demanding I like him simply because he did. While I did find Hesher somewhat interesting, I never considered him lovable, and the movie does itself a disservice by forcing him into the role of emotional hero. The film has the feel of something Tom McCarthy ("The Station Agent," "The Visitor," "Win Win") might direct, but McCarthy would have considered the characters more carefully and not force the kind of schmaltzy ending we get here.
It's too bad, because the performances are spot on. The strongest aspect of Joseph Gordon-Levitt's portrayal of Hesher is his refusal to imbue him with any genuinely redeeming qualities; that would have thrown the film even more off-balance. Behind large-framed glasses that seem plucked from the face of someone generations older, Natalie Portman plays the kind of young woman every nice guy will inevitably encounter at some point in his life... one who gives her attention to the kind before giving herself to the cruel. She's more open to sympathy than happiness. And Devin Brochu navigates a sea of eccentric personalities with a combination of fortitude and emotional guilelessness.
Despite the bad taste I was ultimately left with, the characters, the performances, and certain aspects of the story make this one a surprisingly close call. Yet it collapses in the final stretch, ending up a little too forced, a little too disjointed, and a little too much in love with its main character. I didn't share that affection. He's just so unredeeming yet we're expected to see the beauty in him. The final shot shows the words "HESHER WAS HERE" emblazoned across the rooftop of the family home. For me, the most inspiring word in that sentence is "was."
* * 1/2 out of * * * * stars
