Michelle (Chrissy Metz) does not initially appear to be someone who is struggling. She hums along to the song she is listening to as she chops vegetables in her brightly lit kitchen. She has a wistful, preoccupied expression. The camera then cuts to a few pink pills lying on the counter, shown in the same, soft light as the carrots she’s cutting.
When her teenage son Ethan (Wyatt Oleff) comes home and hears the music, he does not see his mother. He stands in the living room, and on the other side of the wall, no one is in the kitchen. He calls for her and gets no response, and now he knows what’s going on. He’s been in this situation many times before.
Soon, he and his older brother Derek (Fin Argus) are driving Michelle to the ER, and they are trying their best to keep her awake. They sing “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” and try to get her to name what movie it’s from. Just barely, she gets Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid out of her mouth. Her sons are energetic, relentless, and will not give up after she’s answered once.
Their father left them many years ago, and their mother has become addicted to pills—Michelle has been in and out of rehab many times. These trips to the hospital have become so common as to be a genuine part of the sons’ routine, yet they are both eerily self-possessed and responsible. Derek works at a bowling alley and acts in regional commercials—one day, perhaps, he will move out of Virginia and really pursue acting. Ethan, an ace student, is finishing high school and has just discovered that he has received a full scholarship to Brown University. It is time, he believes, for them to stop taking care of their mother.
In spite of its given situation, this low-key film is notable for the almost complete absence of chaos. Yes, there are scenes of peril, in which Michelle puts herself in danger and leaves her sons to pick up the pieces. Yes, there are climatic arguments. Yet the two boys speak so well, are so responsible and good at handling money, and never make any of the blunders with responsibility we may associate with teenagers: Their struggle is hard to believe. Young people, when faced with an absent parent, can certainly rise to the occasion, learning maturity because they have to, but this is not a film that succeeds in portraying this. The brothers’ only real conflict (a few squabbles with their girlfriends and Ethan’s hinted homosexuality set aside), is with the obstacle their mother poses for them. As a result, they too easily adapt to their roles as surrogate adults. The few times they mess up or face disappointment outside of their relationship with Michelle, the film becomes more engaging.
Though Michelle’s addiction is the central problem her sons wrestle with, the film is remarkably uninterested in her as a person. There is not much to her other than her addiction, the regret she voices on behalf of her sons, and her grief and anger toward her runaway husband. We know so little about her relationship with her sons that the family scarcely seems real. (One detail of their past, involving childhood fishing trips, is used as a plot device for a climactic scene.) Her contradictory behavior—avoiding to reveal the thoughts with her sons that she told a rehab therapist she was anxious to share—is barely explored. One can’t help but wonder why. Metz is certainly a capable actor.
In one scene, Michelle waits in the bathroom as she listens to her sons argue about what to do with her. As their voices keep getting louder, she struggles to hold back tears and stares out, as though into the void that is her life. It is in this scene that the film comes alive and hints at what might have been.
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