Film Review: Wildlife

There’s been a few directorial debuts from prominent actors this year with films like A Star Is Born and Mid90s. I always find them interesting since actors are able to pick up certain impulses from their acting career, and often deliver something distinct and puts a spotlight on the performers in a way that allows them to embody characters in ways they sometimes don’t get the chance to. This leads us to Wildlife, which is the directorial debut of Paul Dano, who adapted the Richard Ford novel of the same name with Zoe Kazan.

Set in Montana in 1960, the film is from the perspective of 15 year old, Joe (Ed Oxenbould), who seems to be in a happy, idealistic family with his mother, Jeanette (Carey Mulligan) and father, Jerry (Jake Gyllenhaal). However, when Jerry suddenly loses his job at a golf club, his pride is so affected that he ends up temporarily abandoning the family to assist in fighting a wildfire happening far from town. This leaves Jeanette alone in raising their son, and it leads her to make questionable decisions that affect her personally, and in relation to the family.

Thematically speaking, the film covers a lot of well tread ground. The film explores ideas like the death of the American dream, the myth of the ideal nuclear family, how the changing times informed gender roles, etc. This has all been done before, and I can’t say the film does anything to put in a different perspective or to shed some new insight to any of these themes. It instead presents these ideas in earnest and self-serious fashion just well enough to keep things thoughtful, and without going too far and beating you over the head with it.

What this film also offers are some stellar performances by Gyllenhaal and Mulligan, with much of the heavy duty being on the shoulders of the latter. Gyllenhaal isn’t stretching himself by any means, but he does a good job at presenting himself as the kind of ideal man of that time period – reliant, strong, the breadwinner, and the way all that crumbles when he loses his job is fascinating to watch. Though, given he leaves the family to fight the fire, he is gone for basically the entire second act. That leaves Mulligan to carry the film, and she is not here to mess around. She’s magnetic, she’s electric, and clearly revels in all the complexities that her character exposes over the course of the film.

The character of Joe, on the other hand, is a bit on the bland side. However, it’s easy to overlook it, since he’s essentially given the task of awkwardly standing beside his parents while they argue or reveal terrible truths. It’s all about how he takes in and really absorbs what’s happening around him than it is about him being a character with agency. I wishes we got to know him more since he is given a life outside his home, but those glimpses into his work and his friendships are often too fleeting to really leave much impact.

The film is also beautifully made. Cinematographer, Diego García, effortlessly captures the cold loneliness of Northwestern America in a way that feels like some kind of painting as the mountains occasionally looming in the distance. It’s kind of haunting, and the music from David Lang is appropriately somber and moody. It’s a well made picture, and it’s meditative without being dull and overlong, keeping everything at a mere hour and forty-some minutes. So, while I might be a bit critical of how it doesn’t do anything new, it fortunately never wears out its welcome.

Wildlife isn’t a total home run, but it still manages to be an impressive debut from Paul Dano. He (and Zoe Kazan) clearly has a strong suit in crafting complicated characters that are well rounded and never fall into simple archetypes of either good or evil. They’re human, and the film sees them as human, and it aches for them. There’s a lot of empathy here, and Dano hones in on that, especially through a number of silent close-ups on the actors’ faces at a few points, allowing us to think about what these characters are going through. The performances are what makes this film work as a whole, and it’s elegant, compelling, and it taps into something so deeply human that I’m very anxious to see what Paul Dano does next.