Hey everyone,
I am accepting that I’m putting off my annual movie round-up for yet another month since this choice is just an honest indicator of what my life is like right now. This is not remotely to say my life is bad. It’s just immensely full, and it’s therefore giving me lots of opportunities to practice being gentle, realistic, and reasonable with myself about what’s possible and what’s a priority right now.
So instead of the heavier lift of a round-up post, I’ll squeeze in a February post on this leap day by writing about a movie I recently watched.
On a possibly ill-advised whim while Husband was out for the evening for a family event and I stayed home with our children, I watched “Good Grief” (2023), a film about a person mourning the sudden death of his husband. Because how better to take advantage of a solo evening after the kids are in bed than to watch a movie that makes you sad and anxious about spousal loss? This was truly free time allocation at its finest.
Beyond the mild angst and regret I feel about that decision, I have overall mixed feelings about this movie. Let’s get into it.
The film is written and starred in by Dan Levy, who also made his directorial debut on this project. I am aware of how beloved Levy is following his role in “Schitt’s Creek”, and found his scenes in “Happiest Season” (2020) to be the most redeemable parts of that movie. He wields a unique combination of sass and pathos that makes him incredibly watchable, and for the most part I enjoyed his performance in “Good Grief”.
The movie starts out strong enough, quickly submerging us in the social world and relationship dynamics of Levy’s Marc and his two close friends, Sophie (played by Ruth Negga) and Thomas (played by Nimesh Patel). Knowing the premise of the movie (hell, just knowing the title of the movie) lends the raucous Christmas party at its beginning a somewhat obvious-feeling dread. This is not to say that the pivotal moment of the death of Marc’s husband Ollie (played by Luke Evans) doesn’t succeed in landing its gut punch of wrenching shock and grief—it does, but taken altogether it feels a bit artless.
And ultimately, that sense of artlessness, of emotional moments that land in a slightly faltering way, typifies the entirety of “Good Grief”. The turning point when this became inescapable for me, unfortunately, was during a monologue of Marc’s that went on a little too long, to the point that it took on an almost stage-y feeling. Rather than feeling authentic and organic, each major moment afterward was instead dogged by a sense of fastidiously checking off the necessary evolutions and catharses to which each main character was entitled. They felt forced and over-written when they could have been outbursts or conversations that sounded like things real people would say to each other. The performances in “Good Grief” were therefore limited by what feels like a lack of maturity in the film’s writing, which is a shame because the actors were otherwise very enjoyable to watch.
The movie’s settings are beautiful and the soundtrack is great. And the overall existence of this film, as an examination of gay married life, love, and loss, as well as adult friendships and grief, is unarguably a net positive. Despite the dubiousness of the timing of when I watched this movie, I’m glad I did. It won’t be the best thing I watched this year, but I think it’s still worth watching.
I gave it a 3.
{Heart}
