Wow, critics this year really had it out for “Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close.” I don’t know whether it was lingering resentment for Sandra Bullock for her underserved Oscar win, lingering resentment for director Stephen Daldry, whose underwhelming “The Reader” took the Best Picture nomination slot most felt was deserved by “The Dark Knight” (or at least “WALL-E”), or lingering resentment (still) for anything trying to capitalize on the tragedy of 9/11.
Whatever the reason, critics were ready to pounce from before the film had even screened, and upon its release unleashed en masse some of the most vitriolic reviews I have ever read. From the way they treated the film (a mostly harmless, quirky tale of a child struggling to accept a parent’s death), you’d think that it was Nazi propaganda, or that Stephen Daldry was a professed puppy-murderer.
In a way, the joke ended up being on the critics, as the film scored a shock Best Picture nomination (and in a year when the voting rules were specifically changed to make nabbing a nomination harder and more prestigious), although it will always have the stigma of being, by far, the worst reviewed Best Picture nominee ever. But is it really as bad as you’ve been led to believe?
Well, yes and no.
Much of the criticism thrown at “Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close” does, after all, turn out to be pretty valid, or is least based in some objective truth. Yes, it does squeeze a large portion of its emotional punch from preexisting memories and feelings from the 9/11 attacks, and, yes, this could be considered exploitative. Yes, it’s overly precious and quirky and “different.” Yes, the kid is weird and wooden and could probably benefit from a few more months/years of acting lessons. Yes, the story is probably overcomplicated and contrived.
But come on. Does that really make it the worst movie of the millennium? Because even with all those flaws and questionable directorial decisions, there’s still a very real humanity, beating its heart underneath everything. And amid the confusion and distractions, there are some genuinely breathtaking and clever and powerful individual moments. And the performances, for the most part, are pretty excellent, especially the mute grandfather played by Max von Sydow, but Tom Hanks too, and Viola Davis. Even Sandra!
Is all that worth nothing?
It’s kind of weird for me to be defending this movie so vehemently, because I thought it was only okay — not great, not terrible — but I believe in equal opportunity criticism, and an equal opportunity is not something I feel this earnest, if troublesome, film received.
I don’t normally say this, but for this one, ignore the critics! Don’t let their resounding chorus of “no!” prevent you from taking the opportunity to chime in with your own judgment, even if it is just a “meh.”