I’m not often bored. When I am, it’s because circumstances
have usually conspired against me, keeping me from doing what I really want to
be doing. Such is the case when I travel, which I have during the last three
weeks, and the amusements of book and laptop reach their limit.
My arduous, 46-hour journey back from the Far East by
trains, planes, and automobiles landed me for a time in Singapore – which is
not at all a bad place to be stuck. This is the Mall-of-America of airports, a
vast expanse that includes kids’ indoor play structure, reclining seats for
napping, and yes, even its own movie theater, which constantly screens recent
releases, free-of-charge.
After exhausting my computer’s battery nearly to zero, I
wandered into the theater and the beginning of the movie, We Bought a Zoo. This is not a film I would have otherwise made a
point to see, having pretty much outgrown movies about kids and animals.
Let me recommend it highly. It’s not so much a “family
movie” (although it might be, depending on your own tolerance level for
profanity in the movies you let your kids see) as it is a realistic movie about families. And those are hard
to come by. Most films with families in them use at least one character as a
comic foil, or they grossly distort the characterization to make the point that
these are really clueless parents or really disrespectful teenagers or really hapless elders. The family
members’ characters move the story along or just allow us to laugh.
But in We Bought a
Zoo, the characters are the
story. Benjamin Mee’s (Matt Damon) wife has died, and it’s time for a new start
for him, his seven-year-old daughter and his 14-year-old son. I almost wrote precocious daughter and his mopey son, but I caught myself – the
characters are more than one-dimensional, and that’s what makes this film work.
You see the dad’s impulsive, reckless side (he bought a zoo, after all) played off against the wise caution of his
accountant older brother. But then you also see his tenderness, as when he
“catches Mom’s spirit” with daughter Rosie; his emotional transparency, as when
he confesses to Kelly (Scarlett Johansson) that he “cannot let go” of his wife;
and his desperation, as he tries in vain to get inside his son Dylan’s head in
order to help him.
This is a family that is grieving, and grief doesn’t play
well in movies – it’s too gloomy. It would have been too easy for Benjamin and
Kelly to strike up a relationship early on and had the whole movie been about
the power of focusing on the positive (like raising tigers!). But we don’t just
“get over” grief; the experience becomes a part of who we are. And we get to
watch that integration process unfold over two hours.
It plays out most vividly in the relationship between father
and son. Here it would have been easy for the movie to cut corners and portray
Dylan as a young adolescent pain-in-the-butt who just needs to stop feeling
sorry for himself. Damon’s character does say that (shout that, in fact) to his
son at one point, but unlike most movies, where an eloquent tell-you-off is all
it takes to set things straight, it’s more complicated here – just as in real
life. We see the steps Benjamin has to take – not just the words, but the
actions – in order to pry open the door to his son’s world so that he can
meaningfully help him grieve. And Dylan is grieving. Where Rosie will talk
about it openly – “I miss Mommy” – the son’s pain is expressed more obliquely –
“I hate it here! I miss my friends!” Bravo to the film for getting that
contrast right, but also for letting us see enough of Dylan that we didn’t
resent his attitude, as when we see him fall asleep at night clutching a framed
photograph of his mom, or eavesdropping on the bedtime conversation between his
dad and sister. We understand that he shares the sentiment, but the form won’t
work for him.
Damon’s character is believable because he isn’t perfect.
Although he’s frustrated, he keeps himself from assuming that Dylan’s behavior
is all about him. He keeps his head – save the one time he blows his top: “You
just sit here and feel sorry for yourself, man! Help me with your sister. Help
me!” to which his son replies, “Help me,
dammit! Help me!” I hope his
character can be an encouragement to parents who struggle to stay connected
with a son or daughter, and they can’t pinpoint why. Sadness runs deep, and
doesn’t always show up in tears. It can be masked by anger, perfectionism,
narcissism, impulsivity and busyness – because all of these are distractions
from the loneliness and the emptiness that lies beneath the surface. Dylan’s
sadness is one clue as to why moving to new surroundings so soon after the
death of his mom was unwelcome: without the familiar distractions of city life,
there was little else to do but reflect on what was lost.
Parents, see We Bought
a Zoo – not because taking over a wild animal park is a good way to solve
your problems, but because the movie illustrates just the opposite: the zoo
helps in the short term, but ultimately preoccupation is not the healer. Time
and process are. Watch it with your kids, if you think they can handle it.
Plugged In Online criticized it for too much foul language and gratuitous
alcohol use. Personally, I think Plugged In, while authoritative and detailed,
atomizes movies too much without regard for the context or message. (I mean, is
it realistic that a hodge-podge group of oddball zookeepers and assistant
zookeepers might drink beer with each other at the end of the day? I think so.)
The movie could open up a rich discussion about how your family has dealt with
grief and loss, and about communication between parents and kids (Why is it
easier for Benjamin to talk to his seven-year-old daughter than to his teenage
son?).
Zoo is a winner in
my book. It succeeds in not flattening family members into caricatures, nor in
letting cute, funny animals distract us from the human drama – which is really
what this movie is about. In the closing scene, one of the zoo employees is
gazing admiringly at both the menagerie of creatures at the newly-reopened park
and at Mee’s healing-but-not-yet-healed family. She asks Kelly, “If you had to
choose between people and animals, really quick, how would you choose?”
