A Not So Welcome Stranger

The Woodsman is a sharp, touching portrait of an ex-con who encounters both internal and external obstacles to putting his past behind him. That the character’s crime was pedophilia makes his struggle all the more dramatic and sometimes even uncomfortable to watch, and yet the film manages to make him sympathetic while not shying away from the unsavory compulsions that continue to haunt him.

Played with a haunted and faraway look by Kevin Bacon, Walter returns to live in Philadelphia after serving 12 years in prison for molesting young girls. He gets work in a lumberyard where he meets Vickie (Kyra Sedgwick), a tough, rebellious woman who becomes his lover and eventually stands by him even after she’s learned the truth about his past. At his weekly therapy sessions, Walter discusses his difficulties re-integrating himself into society and dealing with his still-present impulses, while he also faces the resentments and prejudices of both family members and co-workers. Paying periodic visits on Walter is a local detective played with understated menace by Mos Def. The film’s title refers both to Walter’s profession and to the hero in Little Red Hiding Hood, the woodsman who cuts open the wolf to save the little girl inside. In one of his monologues meant to disquiet Walter, the detective tells the story of an abducted girl who had been murdered and laments that there aren’t any woodsmen left in the world.

First-time director Nicole Kassell has a good feel for how to direct a movie like this, giving delicate scenes ample time to unfold between her actors, and using grainy film that amplifies the film’s feeling of oppression. Bacon gives a remarkable performance as a man who’s almost completely shut himself off from the world, while Sedgwick expertly combines toughness and vulnerability in her portrayal of Vickie. The movie also contains a remarkable acting performance by Hannah Pickles as a young schoolgirl that Walter attempts to seduce; at first, Pickles comes across as confident and self-possessed but later reveals a vulnerability that makes it all too easy to see how child molesters succeed in seducing their prey. The Woodsman is undoubtedly a challenging film to watch, but one that succeeds in showing us the humanity within people we usually think of as having none.

Lost in Translation

Say this for Spanglish—it’s not a film that’s afraid to take risks. In telling the story of a single Mexican mother who goes to work for an upwardly mobile family in Los Angeles, it shines a light on a group of people—Mexican domestics—that Hollywood seldom acknowledges even exist. Furthermore, no English subtitles are provided for the numerous scenes in Spanish, presumably to reinforce the idea of the language gap that exists among the film’s main characters but at the risk of losing its non Spanish-speaking audience members. Most conspicuously, the film allows and even encourages one of its main characters, the beautiful Téa Leoni, to appear out-and-out unattractive for most of the movie, not only physically but also in terms of her personality—to say she’s neurotic and narcissistic would be putting it mildly. That the film is able to take such risks is probably a testament to the stature of its director, James L. Brooks, who helmed the Oscar-winning Terms of Endearment and more recently, As Good as it Gets, in addition to being one of the primary creative forces behind The Simpsons.

Unfortunately, Spanglish doesn’t quite reap the rewards for the risk its takes, primarily because the story it tells lacks dramatic heft, except towards the end of the film. The situations depicted throughout most of the film—mostly having to do with assimilation and figuring out the best way to raise one's kids—ultimately seem fairly mundane, despite the pregnant pauses and swelling music that desperately try to convince you that there’s more at stake than there really is. This lack of significance makes it difficult to become as involved in the story as one might like.

Another problem with the film is that Flor, the Mexican maid played by Spanish star Paz Vega, is too one-dimensional a character to ultimately be that interesting. While Vega does her best with the role, which requires her to communicate much non-verbally, she’s basically given two sets of emotions to portray-- kind and understanding, or proud and angry. Her role as the uncomplicatedly good minority stands in stark contrast to Leoni’s complex and layered performance, playing a woman who, while often crazy and selfish, is not entirely unlikable and never less than compelling to watch.

The film also suffers from a lack of clarity as to whose story is ultimately being told. Is it the story of Flor’s daughter Christina (Shelbie Bruce), whose application essay to Princeton serves as the narration for the movie? Is it Flor’s, navigating the difficult role of being a single mother in a foreign country? Or is it John Clasky’s (Adam Sandler), whose family life is falling apart and who sees a possible solution in the arms of another? A movie can, of course, tell multiple stories at one time—just see any of Robert Altman’s films or many of John Sayles’ movies—but Spanglish switches perspectives back and forth too often and too abruptly.

While Spanglish does contain a number of excellent acting performances, including that by Adam Sandler, who’s rapidly becoming a solid dramatic actor, Spanglish unfortunately doesn’t utilize those performances in service of as strong a story as it could have. It should be commended for the risks it takes, but not for the final results.