Junebug

I've been trying, albeit with precious little success, to see at least some of the films nominated for Oscars, since I know I'll be watching the telecast, and might enjoy it a bit more if I had more of a rooting interest in some races. Of course, with twin two-year-olds, I don't get out to the movies much, so the task is severely hampered from the git-go--especially considering that most of the multiple-nominees are not yet out on DVD. And Blockbuster's on-line service hasn't been of much help either--both The Constant Gardner and Junebug are listed as having waits.

Nonetheless, I did manage this weekend to see Junebug (my local library had a copy--libraries, it can not be stated enough, rule). Amy Adams' performance in this film got her a nomination for Best Supporting Actress, and a richly deserved one, I might add. But the film itself left me rather cold. It's a simple story, of a Chicagoan and his gallery-owning wife traveling to the South to meet his family--Mom, Dad, estranged brother, and estranged brother's very pregnant wife (that'd be Adams). But like many low-budget indies it elects to leave much unsaid as opposed to said. For example, the younger brother and our Chicagoan (I'm too lazy to look up names on IMDB--can you tell?) don't speak, pretty much at all. Serious bad blood between them. And yet we never learn why, or even delve into their relationship hardly at all.

This is one of those films where we're asked to read between the lines, which in itself is fine. But when one is asked to read pretty much everything between those lines, when none of the text is put out their on plain paper--it can get to be too much.

Don't mistake me. I liked the film. The acting was fine everywhere, and Adams was, just as billed, brilliant. I just found that it, for me at least, erred too much on the "show" side of the "show don't tell" spectrum.

Until Whenever