BROTHERS IS BASED on the Danish film of the same name
(except… you know. In Danish. Brødre). I haven’t seen
the original, but some Googlin’ reveals that the salient plot points
remain largely unchanged—and the film makes no effort to distance
itself from its foreign roots. Director Jim Sheridan’s (In the Name
of the Father, My Left Foot, and, uh, Get Rich or Die
Tryin’) adaptation has a contemplative steadiness far more common
in European films than American ones.
Sam (Tobey Maguire) is a major in the Army; his ne’er-do-well
brother Tommy (Jake Gyllenhall) has just been released from prison for
an unspecified crime. The two are close, but a good son/bad son
dichotomy is reinforced by their father, a hard-drinking Vietnam vet
(Sam Shepard) who frequently reminds Tommy what a disappointment he is.
But when Sam’s plane is shot down over Afghanistan, he’s presumed
dead—and Tommy tries on the role of “good son” in his brother’s
absence, stepping in to care for Sam’s wife, Grace (Natalie Portman),
and their two young daughters.
The best scenes of this movie take place in domestic
settings—like an uncomfortable family dinner at which Tommy’s
date blithely airs her opinions regarding the psychological needs of
combat soldiers; or the casual banter among Tommy and his friends as
they remodel Grace’s kitchen. These scenes are so perfectly calibrated,
so well-written and intelligently acted, that the plot’s larger
machinations (Sam is a prisoner of war in Afghanistan; his captors
force him to do some pretty heinous shit; he returns home with a
massive case of PTSD) seem almost superfluous. The scenes set in
Afghanistan approach the science fictional, as Sam spends months
imprisoned in a cellar, only to emerge for rounds of brutal torture
from fiendish Afghanis who videotape the whole affair—I had to
remind myself that, yes, these things do happen, and that dramatically
speaking, the setup acts as a stressor that challenge the people back
home in interesting ways.
Brothers is unusual for an American film in its willingness
to permit complexity. While Sam is in Afghanistan, presumed dead, Tommy
and Grace develop an easy affection that tips, just once, into a
kiss—it’s a confusing moment for the audience, who knows what the
characters don’t. Gyllenhaal and Portman are attractively sure-footed,
here—and while Maguire is particularly unconvincing as a heroic
soldier, when he returns from Afghanistan, hollow-eyed and twitchy,
it’s clear why he was cast. It’s an impressive ensemble piece, rounded
out by two remarkably non-annoying young actresses (Bailee Madison and
Taylor Geare) as Sam and Grace’s daughters. Even if Brothers occasionally goes overboard, it’s worth bearing with a bit of melodrama
for what’s otherwise an impressively perceptive film.