And When Did You Last See Your Father?
Published Oct 9 2007, 00:39 BST | By Daniel Saney
Screenwriter: David Nicholls
Starring: Jim Broadbent, Colin Firth, Juliet Stevenson, Matthew Beard, Sarah Lancashire
Running time: 92 mins
Certificate: 12A
Based on the 1993 autobiographical novel by Blake Morrison, And When Did You Last See Your Father? chronicles Blake's (Firth) attempts to find closure with his father in the latter's final days. Though the father-son relationship is hardly untrodden ground, some winning performances make it an emotional and rewarding journey.
Father opens in a summer in the late 1950s, a time in which Blake admires his opportunistic father Arthur (Broadbent). Cutting to the film's present day, 1989, we find Blake as an award-winning writer/poet living in London, though this success seems on the surface to have made little impression on his headstrong dad.
It's not long before Arthur is diagnosed with terminal bowel cancer, prompting a reluctant Blake to come to terms with their family's history and attempt a reconciliation with his father before it is too late.
And When Did You Last See Your Father? doesn't trouble itself with any recognisable chronological structure, instead flitting between three periods. From the relative happiness of Blake's ignorant childhood, unaware of the relevance of his auntie Beaty (Lancashire) and father's backseat huddling, we are transported to his awkward adolescence. Played by Matthew Beard, who makes his feature film debut, we are taken through the memories causing Blake's resentment, which nevertheless frequently prove hilarious to the audience.
Beard is a joy to watch as he flounders in his attempts to chat up the au pair, and then a holiday rep as his progress is hindered at every step by his attention-attracting father. Though at first he merely feels embarrassment at Arthur's well-meaning attempts at filial bonding, Blake soon discovers more valid reasons for true resentment – a development well captured by Beard. Meanwhile, Firth's reserved performance is also effective in making real the practiced disdain that Blake has come to feel for his father whose traits and mistakes can be recognised in himself (as reinforced by a number of mirror-gazing scenes). However, audiences could probably do without being haunted by memories of Firth "fondly remembering" a former love in the bathtub.
The versatile Jim Broadbent is a wonderful piece of casting, allowing his character to win us over in spite of his imperfections. He excels at the younger, vivacious Arthur as well as demanding pity as the ailing, older one, striking up good chemistry with Firth, and even more so Beard.
A well-cast and well-scripted movie, Father's examination of a love/hate, admiration/disdain relationship has a universally affecting emotional core to which everyone will relate.
I saw this movie at Toronto with anticipation since it was first announced it was to be filmed. I only have a minor comment to add to what is written here. The bathtub scene, is far out of context of the book, so I do believe it is going to be misconstrued in the film. In the book, Blake has woken up in his parents' home, is stressed and dealing with familial issues, his father's impending death and all that conjures, his separation from his family and he goes into the bath and does this, as a sort stress relief. It is also a symbol of reaffirmation of life. To quote someone "the larger point is that in the midst of death someone can feel desparate for sex since sex is the ultimate affirmation of life." And to remember his father as he once was, robust, vibrant, full of life, not the shell he is seeing slowly evaporating before him. Yes, this scene leaves one wondering. Fortunately I had read the book and knew it was in the film. It could have been handled differently, I suppose. For an adaptation of a novel that did not lend itself to be adapted to the screen I feel all involved did an excellent job and far beyond my expectations. (And actually, as a Colin Firth Fan, I didn't mind it at all.)
October 29th 2007 at 11:24pm