Decades ago, we wanted more of Tom. Nothing has changed, the good nature, the sheer brilliance, the gifted talent that he is. We still want, need more of Tom.
The director Marielle Heller has never seen a fall. And the way she is going with, there will never come a day. Only because she has got style. Now, I know that watching this film or reading the logline of it or even thinking of the genre it drills in, “style” is not what you would imagine is her way in. And though it is not, she cannot help herself glorify the emotional journey that these characters are going through. Just walk yourself again with Matthew Rhys and how he drinks in the surrounding of his. Whenever the film transcends from one scene to another, the models of buildings in the city and bridges and cars in traffic and whatnot location are displayed resonating a clean if surprising message. It took me a while to fully understand the intentions; not that I still do, of the makers. For there comes a time when these characters do jump outside the four walls, we get to experience the outer world. But also at that time we are told that we are delusional if we think, this is what we are seeing. For Rhys is delusional. The film completely relies upon his body language, his facial expression, his practical perspective. When he first encounters Tom Hanks kneeled down, probably uncomfortable, puppeteering and singing a song or when the background score takes the charge of the film as Rhys rattles the cage hungrily or when he is told to be silent or metaphorically to calm down, we are with him, trembling on our feet. Tom’s presence remains just like the role of Fred Rogers in our life. He comes in bits and pieces, episodically and enlightens what is already A Beautiful Day In The Neighbourhood.