Rerun... Henry Poole is Here

Why, yes, it is an indie arthouse film! How on Earth did you guess?

There is a genre of films which I adore but that I have real trouble talking to people about because my description of the genre is a bit off-putting: I love films where nothing happens. Now by this, I don't mean that the films are boring or that there is nothing said (indeed, they make up some of the most powerful pieces of cinema in existence, in my opinion). Rather, what I am referring to are films that don't feel the need to have big, fantastical set-pieces, but are content to limit the action to real people going through real life emotions and scenarios and, mostly, just talking about them.

I know, I really sold it, right?

My awful advertising aside, there are some truly brilliant films that fit the "Nothing really happens" genre: Garden State is perhaps the most famous. The Last Kiss or 50/50 are less well known. And then you get films like Henry Poole is Here. This is the kind of film that lives on these pretentious online lists of "Spectacular Movies That You've Never Seen" and I'm here to tell you (hopefully without pretentiousness) that I have seen it, and you should too. But you're going to need to be patient because this movie is about God.

 No, no wait! Only sort of! It's a thought piece! A thought pieeeeece!

Luke Wilson plays Henry Poole, a man who has recently discovered that he has a terminal disease and could go from perfectly healthy to dead at any moment. In his understandable despair, he decides to live out his remaining days in the last place that he can remember being truly happy: his childhood home (however, he is unable to get the exact house and has to settle for one a few doors down - isn't that the most wonderful image of the futility of man's machinations?). Henry is content to take the house as quickly as possible, specifically asking the estate agent not to worry about haggling or fixing the water stain on the outside wall, instead choosing to stay alone, wallowing in depression (and vodka). That is until his religious neighbour Esperanza (Adriana Barazza) thinks she sees the face of Christ in the water stain and that it is a holy miracle. What follows for the first half of the film is a gentle comedy which shows Henry's growing frustration at the ever expanding cult of Christians arriving at his door to see the "miracle" while he engages in a one-man-and-his-hose battle against the stubborn stain that refuses to disappear.

No, Mr Wilson, the camera is over there. Oh, forget it.

What happens around the midpoint of the movie, though, is a complete tonal shift to a deep, thoughtful and really quite emotional second half. Henry begins to fall for the woman next door (Radha Mitchell) and when her daughter, Millie (the almost too adorable Morgan Lily), who hasn't spoken in over a year touches the wall and whispers "Mommy", Henry begins to doubt his own cynicism and is left with the decision: Which is worse? To die never having experienced hope? Or to put your faith in something and have it not work?

The story really rather speaks for itself - you've probably already decided for yourself whether or not this film is for you. Where the film passes from "meaningful to some" and into "no, seriously, watch this movie" is in two things: it is a brilliantly scored film, and it has some of the most beautiful cinematography that I have ever seen on screen. Not flashy, not elaborate, just beautifully staged.

Of the music, one can only say so much in a written review. It has a host of soft indie tracks that work perfectly with the understated and mellow story. Badly Drawn Boy's Promises is a sterling example. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=742uUWqB9AY There are songs in this film that give me misty eyes just listening to them, so when you add them to an emotional plot, well, you can only imagine,

Similarly, the cinematography has to be experienced, rather than explained. The example that I tell people about, however, because I think it might be one of the loveliest shots of cinema in the last ten years, is a shot from the viewpoint of the "face" on the wall on the night that Henry almost lets himself believe. Wonderfully acted by Luke Wilson, you can see how desperately he wants to touch the wall and have it heal him and so he reaches out to camera and stops just short, then slowly comes back to himself as he realises the absurdity of what he's doing. I can't do it justice, but trust me it's lovely.

All that aside, I wouldn't criticise anyone for saying that Henry's moodiness drags on for just a little bit too long in the first half of the movie and as the need for plot progression ramps up, so do the miracles, becoming more and more difficult to explain, which detracts significantly from the careful ambiguity that the film tries to maintain. And by the end, the film's main theme of "religious or not, all you need is hope" get's pretty heavy-handed. Also, it is a completely fair question (of this film and the Christian religion in general) to ask: if this is God, then how come he's looking after a few white people again, rather than, you know, those millions of needy Africans, for example? (I direct you Tim Minchin saying this better than I ever could. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IZeWPScnolo)

But for all that is good or bad about the film, what I think is most interesting about it is that, in my opinion, you need to be somewhat on the fence to really enjoy the film. Staunch believers will be too mystified by the miracles (which many, I suppose, wouldn't even question) to notice the film's fairly explicit message of "belief is what you make it", and hard atheists will be too busy googling the possible medical and psychological explanations for the "miracles" to accept the film's even more explicit message of "not everything needs an explanation". It is, perhaps, one of the few niche films for agnostics (though if you are a Christian or an Atheist and feel I've been unfair there, I'd relish the chance to hear your opinion of the film). I think this point is illustrated very clearly in the critical reception of the movie which ranges from "cute and quirky" to "downright abhorrent" which seems to be based mostly on the individual critic's perception of how religious the film is intending to be.

And finally, because I know you're wondering: yes, you see the wall stain from many different angles and, no, I won't tell you if I think I can see the face. You'll have to decide for yourself whether the power of Christ resides within this powerful, interesting and underrated movie. I hope to God you get it right.

Egotistical to suggest that a deity reads your blog? Naaah...

That's a wrap.