30 years ago, director Robert Zemeckis changed the landscape of American cinema with Forrest Gump — the fictional story of a man (played by Tom Hanks) with a low IQ accomplishing great things in his life, all while unknowingly influencing some of America’s most defining moments.
The film was a tremendous success, grossing $678 million worldwide, winning six Academy Awards, including Best Director, Best Actor, and Best Picture, and warming the hearts of filmgoers everywhere.
It’s difficult not to think of Forrest Gump in the same breath as Here, Zemeckis’ latest. The films cover a lot of the same thematic ground, reuniting Hanks with Gump co-star Robin Wright and co-writer Eric Roth to tackle the lives of varying families over the course of millions of years of American history. The only difference is, where Gump’s narrative found common ground with its audience, drifting through 30 years of one life-altering event after another, Here basks in mawkish emotion and gimmickry to establish its foundation and never adapts to the changing landscape of modern cinema.
Here tells the generational story of several families entering and exiting the walls of a New England home. Richard and Margaret Young (Hanks and Wright) are the centerpiece, the former whose parents Al (Paul Bettany) and Rose (Kelly Reilly) own the home and live with them for most of their lives.
As life progresses and gets in the way, Richard and Margaret wed, have children, and find themselves stuck in the cycle of domestic stability, their lives simply a shadow of Richard’s parents.
The story isn’t solely about them, however. Various figures over history enter the frame non-chronologically, including dinosaurs, indigenous peoples, Benjamin Franklin’s estranged son, and the inventor of the La-Z-Boy recliner. Zemeckis’ intentions of communicating the flat circle of time passing from Richard McGuire’s 2014 graphic novel, while admirable in theory, are presented as ham-fisted cliches and Hallmark commercial schmaltz lacking any emotional finesse.
Here’s problems are many, but the majority of them stem from the film’s sole technical framing device: The entirety of the film’s shot composition is propped in a corner, as the audience acts as observers of the events on-screen.
Zemeckis is no stranger to technical innovation over his over 50 years in the industry; His early use of computer graphics in live-action filmmaking was revolutionary in the Back to the Future (1985-1990) series, as was his hand-drawn animation in the live-action Who Framed Roger Rabbit? (1989). However, Here’s veiled attempt at finding common ground with its audience never connects through this visual style. When characters are in the back corner of this room, for instance, especially when the point of the framing is to highlight something visual, the film fails.
For instance, a scene later in the film shows Richard and Margaret discussing the artwork she’s painted over the years, causing Margaret to break down as she processes the passage of time spent wasting her potential. In what should be an emotional highlight for the film, we’re never able to connect.
The paintings themselves are in the back corner of the room, so we’re not able to see them well enough to get a feel for her talents. The pair discuss the paintings in the corner as well, so we’re not able to fully empathize with the emotional power that’s insisted. Finally, the framing is so awkward in its execution that you’re constantly taken out of the experience when the characters move into the other room later in the scene with their big expressions wandering too closely into the frame.
Here is filled to the brim with unsightly moments like this, all to the tune of a manipulative Alan Silvestri score that plays off the Hallmark sentimentality that the film loves to revel in, and much of the comedy coming from simple juxtapositions unworthy of your average sitcom.
The only real shining spots are the performances, even if they’re through the myopic lens of its direction. Hanks, Wright, and Bettany all deliver where it counts and attempt to find rhythms that work for them as they trudge through time scene after scene. However, what Here leaves us with is a simple fortune cookie philosophy that’s unaware of how to evolve, which is ironic for a film that refuses to adapt to the tonal advancements in the last 30 years of filmmaking.
Say what you will about Forrest Gump — the film has its problems, but at the very least it succeeds in playing with the form, both technically and structurally, despite its pandering and neoliberal distancing from Jenny’s exploration to find meaning outside of traditional standards. Here is what I imagine the biggest detractors of Forrest Gump see when they describe why they hate it so adamantly.
30 years later, despite its issues, Forrest Gump still acts as a tentpole of American values at its best. I can’t assure you the same fate for Here, which I imagine won’t survive long enough to be remembered in less than five years.
Review Courtesy of Landon Defever
This review was submitted from the 60th Chicago International Film Festival.
Feature Image Credit to TriStar Pictures via IMDB