Todd Field: LITTLE CHILDREN

[mouton]

LITTLE CHILDREN
Written by Todd Field and Tom Perrotta
Directed by Todd Field


Writer and director, Todd Field has a special talent. He has a knack for making his audience squirm in their seats while their stomachs turn. He is not a master horror filmmaker but rather a minimal dramatist with a keen understanding of the peculiarities of human behaviour. I left his latest film, LITTLE CHILDREN, feeling like I might throw up, just as I had when I left his first and last film, IN THE BEDROOM. Only this time, I left with more than just feeling that I had been emotionally hollowed; this time I left feeling puzzled. At this point, I would ordinarily explain briefly what LITTLE CHILDREN was about but that is a task I cannot do briefly. Put simply, without grasping any of its scope at all, LITTLE CHILDREN is another slice of life picture about the banalities of suburban existence. The mommies meet in the park on a daily basis and ogle the one single dad amongst them as their kids run amuck. Husbands turn to internet pornography or other women to get the fixes they stopped getting from their wives before sitting down to dinner with them. And this particular neighborhood welcomes back a former resident, fresh from his stint in jail for exposing himself to a minor, by plastering every post on the street with signs that ask, “Are your children safe?” Field’s s timely reveal of the story elements and skillfully vigorous visuals draw you in to the raw unraveling of his characters, gracefully played by Kate Winslet, Patrick Wilson and Jennifer Connelly. LITTLE CHILDREN is fascinating and compelling without having any clear reason why it is either of these things. You may ask yourself where this is all going when you watch but you won’t care to know the answer.

Life gets stale when you aren’t paying attention or even when you’re just trying to master the juggling act. Life is also very good at throwing another ball into the mess when you’ve just gotten the hang of juggling three. On one day, in the park and on a dare, Sarah Pierce (Winslet) introduces herself to Brad Adamson (Wilson). She has wagered five dollars with the other mommies that she can get Brad’s phone number. Both Brad and Sarah are married but that doesn’t factor into this game. At least it doesn’t until the bet somehow goes too far and the two kiss. They catch themselves and each other completely off guard. Sarah is married to a man she doesn’t love and has a three-year-old daughter for whom she has more distaste than love for. Brad has not been able to pass the bar exam since finishing law school and spends his evenings away from his wife (Connelly) watching teenagers skateboard when he’s supposed to be studying. Their kiss is meant to taunt the other mommies but instead it cracks their worlds open to reveal new possibilities. It isn’t long before they meet again and it isn’t long after that until they end up naked in Sarah’s laundry room. Given what an inattentive sap her husband is, it is a joy to watch Sarah send Brad signals, showing off her new bathing suit at the public pool or asking Brad to rub lotion on her back. It is also exciting to watch Brad reluctantly respond to these signals. He has a stunning and brilliant woman in his life and yet he navigates towards Sarah. It isn’t love that is growing between them but an energy that affirms to each that they are in fact alive.

LITTLE CHILDREN’s secondary plot is also brilliantly executed but adds a level of depth to a film that was already dug pretty deep to start with. When Ronnie (Jackie Earle Haley) moves back in with his mother (Phyllis Somerville), there is outrage amongst the residents of this suburb at the “pervert’s” arrival. Whereas Ronnie’s return defines the period in which Sarah and Brad’s affair takes place, it also makes the film seem as if it were trying to tackle more than it should have. The abuse Ronnie endures from some of the locals encourages sympathy for him but he is not reformed. Tying both plots together seamlessly, Ronnie violates his parole and, with flippers and snorkel in place, crashes the public pool in the middle of a heat wave, while Sarah and Brad flirt carefully in the shade. Ronnie lusts for all the tiny legs treading in the water until he is discovered. Amidst hysteria, all the children exit the pool into the arms of their parents and they all stare horrifically as authorities escort him out. What happens next is the perfect example of the dark humour that runs throughout LITTLE CHILDREN. Panic turns back into play in a split second as all the children jump back into the pool and the parents resume their previous conversations. Is Ronnie’s presence in the neighborhood truly causing anyone to lose sleep or is just the drama that they all love? Crave? Need?

It was only after I left the theatre that I was able to reel in all my thoughts on LITTLE CHILDREN. A conversation in a yellow cab led me to see that the key lies in the title. As Sarah runs from the responsibility of having a daughter, as Brad plays football with his buddies when he should be studying, as Sarah’s husband surfs for porn while he’s at work, as Brad’s wife purposefully drops her spoon on the floor so she can look under the table to catch her husband playing with Sarah’s feet, it becomes clear that every one of these adults is doing the exact same thing; they are all acting like little children.

[Chris Knipp]

My take (http://www.filmwurld.com/forums/showthread.php?s=&postid=15935#post15935) [from the NYFF viewing]

TODD FIELD: LITTLE CHILDREN (2006)

Fine sexual drama with a small uncertainty of tone

Todd Field’s Little Children’s screenplay was written in collaboration with Tom Perrotta, on whose eponymous novel it’s based. Perrotta wrote Election’s, Bad Haircut’s, and Joe College’s funny, ironic screenplays before this. But though mildly satirical at times in its vision of middle-class white infidelity, this second film (at last) from the director of the powerful 2000 In the Bedroom, with its themes out of Cheever or Updike, also moves toward the solemn and the shocking.

One big reason for that is a second plot about a just-released sex offender and a troubled ex-cop who turns into a self-appointed protector of public morality campaigning to drive the ex-prisoner out of town.

Brad (Patrick Wilson) is a househusband caring for his little boy while feebly preparing for his previously failed bar exams. He has a gorgeous but emasculating wife, Kathy (Jennifer Connelly) who’s a successful PBS-style documentary filmmaker. Sarah (Kate Winslet), with an MA in English, in charge of a recalcitrant little girl with whom she has little patience at times, has a well-off distant husband (Gregg Edelman) who's a pretentious adman who gets off on Web porn. Sarah and Brad meet in a park where moms take their kids, in East Wyndham, Massachusetts. They wind up kissing when they first meet, mainly to shock the other moms.

Brad and Sarah spend a lot of the summer minding their kids together at the municipal pool. This turns into a torrid affair with frequent sex at Sarah’s husband’s large house. They're attractive, and attracted, and their general dissatisfaction with their spouses and with where they are now heightens their need to throw themselves at each other with the utmost abandon.

Meanwhile Ronnie (former child actor Jackie Earle Haley, vividly remembered from Bad News Bears and Breaking Away and strong in a new way here) has come into town: he’s the sex offender, a painfully self-aware one, and he lives with the one person who loves him, his aging mother Ruth (a convincing Phyllis Somerville), while the ex-cop, Larry (Noah Emmerich) wages his war as a one-man “committee.” Larry and Brad have met and Larry persuades Brad, who already wastes time watching boys skateboarding when he’s supposed to be boning up for the bar exam, to join a night touch football league team made up of cops – and thus the infidelity and the sex offender elements are linked. But they would be anyway, because this is a small community. And one particularly hot day Ronnie comes to the municipal swimming pool and causes an outcry when he’s spotted ogling young girls under water.

The other moms from the park, who were afraid of Brad and called him “the Prom King,” are gently satirized by a voice-over narration spoken by Will Lyman, of Frontline on PBS, which sounds like a high school educational film. Perrotta is, after all, a comic writer. But more of that later.

The movie has a bright, intense, clear visual style, sometimes making use of extreme close-ups. Since the acting and directing are fine, this gives things a feeling of authority. It's also effective in underlining both the satirical and the sensual aspects of the story, and heightens the emotional effect when the narrative lines move toward crisis.

Brad’s development (the novel-based voice-over tells us) may have been arrested by his mother’s dying when he was in his early teens, and this explains why he watches the skateboarding boys with such longing: they’re having the playtime that was stolen from him.

Another theme is that of Cheryl (Marsha Dietlein), Sarah’s friend and neighbor who baby-sits with her daughter when she’s having sex with Brad, speed-walks with her, and gets her into a book-discussion group leading to a pointed scene in which Madame Bovary is discussed and Sarah defends the adulterous heroine as someone who revolted in search of freedom. The older women nod approvingly, while one of the park moms doesn’t get it at all.

Partly because it’s hard to juggle all the elements in Perrotta's 350-page novel, the ironic narrative voice disappears throughout the film’s midsection.

At the end matters all come to a head, with Brad and Sarah, with Ronnie, and with his erstwhile nemesis, Larry, and a lot of tension is created through Hitchcockian cross-cutting between these climaxing threads.

Field has avoided the extreme finale of his first film -- this one shares such heavy concerns as families, infidelity, crime, and confronting death, but by contrast, this ending, though breathless and troubling, is ultimately sweet and marked by reconciliation and acceptance. One may wonder if underlying issues have really been resolved. The film feels somewhat overlong, but the nuanced characterizations and fine acting and the attractiveness of the central couple entertain and interest us mightily.

Perhaps the one weakness overall is a slight uncertainty of tone, which explains why some viewers are troubled by the voice-over (and also by its long disappearance midway). If situations are seen primarily as highly serious or even horrifying, it’s hard to see how the satirical feel fits in, and at the end we seem to have lost touch with where we started out. Ultimately as with so many American stories on film, the writers seem to have tried to tackle too much material. Nothing wrong with that, but they haven't quite got the world-view to encompass it all. Technically though Field has achieved more polish and shown more confidence, even compared to his already admirable and powerful first film of five years ago. The cast is wonderful, well chosen and well used. Field is an experienced actor: he knows the craft. This has got to be a film to think about at year's end when best lists are made up.

[mouton]

Hey Chris ... I'm stupid busy this weekend but I'm really looking forward to reading this review as well as you review for "The Queen". Hope all is good!

[mouton]

Hey Chris.

This film boggles me a little. I think you nailed some very relevant points on it. It does take on too much in the writing but yes, the direction and acting are so solid that it comes off as polished and effective. Also, yes, the narration does feel awkward because the film is not specific in tone, unable to settle on melodrama or satire. Regardless, it still haunts me. There are so many levels to draw from in the text ... and I could stare at Patrick Wilson all day but that's not really the point here. I found your review to be similar to mine when you were describing the general plot. It reads like a long list ... one can almost not imagine watching all of that in one film. Yet we do and I still consider it to be one of the best films of the year.

[Chris Knipp]

I think it probably is one of the best. IT has come in for some dismissals because ofa a few obvious details, like a women's discussion group of Madame Bovary to refer to Winslet's character's adultery' and for being about well off suburban white people, as if that weren't a legitimate subject or we're all tired of it. (Of course Ronnie (Jackie Earle Haley) provides a contrast and counterpoint to that. I agree with your take. The director works well with actors and they are fine. And Wilson impressed me too, I had not noticed him before but he holds his own with Kate and at the Q&A at the NYFF he was very winning and natural, a charismatic and attractive man.

[mouton]

Patrick Wilson in person?!? You lucky guy.

[Chris Knipp]

And Kate Winslet too--she stole the show, as I guess she usually does.

[mouton]

OK, now I don't like you a little. She is so captivating. I can't wait to see the movie again. It just opened here. About time.

[oscar jubis]

I am slightly disappointed by Little Children. I was hoping to like it as much as In The Bedroom (#7 in my 2001 Top 10 English Lang). I think it's a good film (for many reasons you've both expressed well), but I like it less than both of you based on "one of the best films of the year" (mouton) and "a film to think about at year's end when best lists are made up" (CK).

My issues with Little Children have nothing to do with "tone". Even you Chris don't seem to mind that much: "Perhaps the one weakness overall is a slight uncertainty of tone". I don't think the film is "unable to settle on melodrama or satire" (mouton). This is basically a drama with a few satiric scenes. It doesn't seem to be a significant problem to you, mouton, given that you call Little Children one of the best of the year. The satiric element in the novel has been significantly curtailed. It never becomes broad satire. My question is how do the satiric bits detract from the drama?
*As a matter of fact, Park's Lady Vengeance, a 2006 film I like significantly more than Little Children, truly changes tone almost from scene to scene without detrimental effects. It goes from tragedy to broad satire in the blink of an eye, and the amazing finale is sublime and transcendental.

Notice that I started last paragraph with "my issues", because I'm not ready to refer to them as "flaws". I recognize that what I bring into the film colors my reaction to it. On the other hand, I've found common ground with a few critics reviewing Little Children:

"Having made its pitch for life, liberty, and the pursuit of romantic happiness, Little Children takes a sudden turn, gathers itself into a move of petit bourgeois disapproval and deals out the wages of sin with zealous overkill. The film preaches liberation and delivers only puritanism".
(Ella Taylor, Village Voice)

Mouton writes: "Given what an inattentive sap her husband is, it is a joy to watch Sarah send Brad signals, showing off her new bathing suit at the public pool or asking Brad to rub lotion on her back. It is also exciting to watch Brad reluctantly respond to these signals." Yes, it is a joy. And I think "we" are also supposed to feel happy for Brad. I guess he thinks his wife is "a knockout" (not me, I've never found the angular Connelly attractive, but that's beside the point). But she's consistently snippy, pushy, and disaffectionate. We never find out if they love each other or if they ever did, or "did they marry out of sheer eye-candy narcissism" (Andrew O'Hehir, Salon). So yes, it's a joy to see Brad and Sarah together and the filmmakers set us up to think they simply don't belong with their spouses and that they have a right to be happy. The film's resolution seems to me by all appearances like a punishment to both Brad and our modern day Mme. Bovary. Little Children is a film that an old-fashioned puritan would love. If the film isn't saying that Brad and Sarah ought to stick with the lousy spouses, what the hell is it saying?

[Chris Knipp]

It seems quite grotesque to compare Little Chlidren to Lady Vengeance--grotesque when you reveal that you prefer Korean Grand Guignol to American social analysis.. In Little Children we are in the world of Fifties New Yorker short stories. Changes in tone are indeed are crucial in LIttle Children and more damaging. Issues, not flaws: fine. I don't agree that this is inferior to In the Bedroom; I think it's a better constructed, more mature piece of work, though again Field rushes to some far-fetched resolutions at the end. He is superb with the actors, and the scenes are strong and intense. The writing isn't perfect. Sometimes it's too pointed and obvious (the Madame Bovary discussion group; the bigotry toward the sex offender); sometimes the minor charac ters are underwritten and shallow. But I have not seen anything this season that has read so clearly and forcefully in the vein of middle class social anaylsis.

You're right: the spouses who're cheated on get thin treatment. This is from the adulterers' point of view.
If the film isn't saying that Brad and Sarah ought to stick with the lousy spouses, what the hell is it saying?Damned if I know. Maybe it's just setting forth some slices of life for us to contemplate. But I guess maybe it's saying that adultery is liberating and fun--but best indulged in only temporarily, not long-term. This isn't puritanism (I would avoid falling into the use of that stereotypical word); it's practicality, realism. People revert; they seek secuity. But I am not interested in a message of the lack of it in the movie. I'm interested in how strong and compelling the scenes are one after another.

[oscar jubis]

I appreciate your willingness to engage in a discussion with me. I was beginning to feel as one who talks to himself. I do appreciate and read every review posted here (often after I've seen the respective film) but one can find tons of reviews in the net. Having an intelligent and opinionated person willing to communicate is a gift. Thank you.

Originally posted by Chris Knipp
It seems quite grotesque to compare Little Chlidren to Lady Vengeance--grotesque when you reveal that you prefer Korean Grand Guignol to American social analysis.

I watched Lady Vengeance for the second time right before I headed to the theatre to watch Little Children. I came back home and I read some reviews including yours that mentioned "uncertainty of tone" and I couldn't help to think of the more pronounced tonal changes in Park's movie. Now, I don't prefer "Korean Grand Guinol to American social analysis" but I prefer Lady Vengeance to Little Children. Park has gotten away from the "Grand Guinol" style of Oldboy. The gross-out close-ups are gone, for instance. We watch a video of the kids crying and pleading, and we watch the parents enter the room where the teacher is kept hostage and come out splattered with his blood. But neither the murder of the children nor the revenge killing is actually shown. It's a new aesthetic for Park. Richard Pena asked him whether its a reaction to the criticism of Oldboy. He explained that he dared to cast Korea's modern-day Audrey Hepburn (Yeong-ae Lee) in the title role and that inspired him to change his aesthetic and add the themes of redemption and atonement to the guilt and revenge themes that characterized the whole trilogy. For me, this is Park's artistic breakthrough. A film that achieves the transcendental in its final minutes. But the reason I brought it up here is because I apparently don't seem bothered by tonal changes as much as others. I don't see how, for instance, the satiric bits in Little Children detract from the characterizations of the four main characters: Brad, Sarah, Ronnie and Larry. But I remain open minded and I ask "How does the satire in Little Children detract from the drama?" How is it "damaging"?

The writing isn't perfect. Sometimes it's too pointed and obvious (the Madame Bovary discussion group; the bigotry toward the sex offender); sometimes the minor characters are underwritten and shallow. But I have not seen anything this season that has read so clearly and forcefully in the vein of middle class social anaylsis.

Ok. What do you think the movie says about the middle class? Is what the movie have to say about the middle class insightful?


You're right: the spouses who're cheated on get thin treatment. This is from the adulterers' point of view.Damned if I know. Maybe it's just setting forth some slices of life for us to contemplate. But I guess maybe it's saying that adultery is liberating and fun--but best indulged in only temporarily, not long-term.

I refer to the same people you call adulterers (in which you seem to assume the point of view of the "lousy spouses") as folks-trapped-in-bad-marriages-who-have-a-right-to-be-happy. Maybe Brad and Sarah will not find enduring happiness with each other, but the film gives us no reason to think they'll find it with their current spouses. So Sarah walking back home with her little girl and Brad's accident feel like punishment and retribution. By choosing to end the film here, Sarah is thus condemned to return to her creep of a husband and Brad has to go on living a lie, pretending he wants to pass the bar exam and be a lawyer. The filmmakers seem to me to be favoring a strict code of morals that denies Brad and Sarah the right to change course in life and pursue happiness. If there's a better word for that than puritanism, please tell me.

But I am not interested in a message of the lack of it in the movie.

I am.

[Chris Knipp]

Going backward, I wasn't saying messages are irrelevant, just that in Little Children it's best not to dwell on that aspect.

Interesting what you say about Lady Vengeance, but perhaps just the fact you'd seen it immediately before Little Children wasn't enough reason to dwell on a comparison. Yes, the gross-out sort of violence is gone, or toned down, in Lady, from Oldboy, but it still grosses me out, because I've become fed up with it by now, and despite Park's virtuoso skills as a filmmaker, I am sick of his orgies of vengeance, toned down or no. But this has nothing to do with Field's movie. I seem to have misunderstood you here too: I thought you had said you were more bothered by tonal changes in Little Children, but that they worked in Lady Vengeance, and I would have agreed with that. But even if they don't work as well in Little Children, I still think LIttle Children is a great movie.

I am sick of Park's orgies, toned down or not, and hence I do NOT like Lady Vengeance better than Lilttle Children. But anyway it is apples and oranges. I would not compare two movies of such different genre and category that way. I think Little Children is one of the best American movies of the year. Park's revenge triology is some kind of virtuoso cinematic achievement, but that's another best list.

Now I don't think "the satiric bits in Little Children detract from the characterizations of the four main characters: Brad, Sarah, Ronnie and Larry." But at this point I'd say maybe the simplification of the secondary characters, the spouses, undermines the three-dimensionality of the main portraits. Did I say the satire detracted from the drama? Or was that somebody else? I don't remember. If it was me, I withdraw it.


What do you think the movie says about the middle class? Is what the movie have to say about the middle class insightful?
That's a blunt-instrument kind of question. It might be good for a college or high school discussion question. But Little Children is a specific story. The whole idea of suburban white adultery is a sort of cliché. But the observation of these individual people is insightful. Obviously there is a lot of reference to hypocrisy and bigotry. But the movie isn't a tract. You might look to what Field has said about what he was doing for some sort of answer to your question, but I can't answer your question, and that aspect, like "message", doesn't interest me so much as the characterizations, the electricity in the park when the two people kiss and the matrons watch in shock and envy. It's about that kind of atmosphere and situation, not about "the middle class."


I refer to the same people you call adulterers (in which you seem to assume the point of view of the "lousy spouses") as folks-trapped-in-bad-marriages-who-have-a-right-to-be-happy. Whoa, there! In calling them adulterers, I'm simply using a narrative terminology. This is a story about white suburban adultery. I am not siding with the spouses, nor do I know what their opinions are about the affair. We don't get to hear that. "folks-trapped-in-bad-marriages-who-have-a-right-to-be-happy" is obviously not going to catch on as a term. Adulterers still works. I'm not saying they don't have every right to be adulterers. But wait, again: they have a right to be happy? Well, yeah, it's in the constitution, life, liberty, and the pursuit of. But is this affair "being happy"? Is "be happy" a euphemism for sleep with other people's husbands and wives? No. So you're kind of skipping a few steps here, and your rule, folks-trapped-in-bad-marriages-have-a-right-to-be-happy isn't necessarily what the movie is about. It's more about what they do when they're trapped in bad marriages, are vibrant and attractive, and meet. What happens isn't happiness. It's lust. But yeah, they have a right to be happy. They're trapped in bad marriages. Their spouses suck. And they're good looking and have too much time on their hands. The irony is that their affair isn't a critique of their lives. It's just something that happens. The problem of their marriages, of their lives, remains to be solved. Why do you assume that Brad shouldn't pass the bar exam? Doesn't he need to do something? Maybe they need to stay in their bad marriages for a while longer till they get in a better position to move out. Their affair is too impulsive.


So Sarah walking back home with her little girl and Brad's accident feel like punishment and retribution. By choosing to end the film here, Sarah is thus condemned to return to her creep of a husband and Brad has to go on living a lie, pretending he wants to pass the bar exam and be a lawyer. The filmmakers seem to me to be favoring a strict code of morals that denies Brad and Sarah the right to change course in life and pursue happiness. If there's a better word for that than puritanism, please tell me. Okay, I'll tell you. :-)

No, the fact that Sarah and Brad's running off together gets stalled doesn't mean that. It may mean that summer love affairs aren't as important as they seem at the time. But it is not punishment. It's a reality check. But it doesn't mean that Brad and Sarah were wrong to look elsewhere for happiness outside their marriages, or that they shouldn't or won't do so again. It may be realism, caution, cyniciam, even, but not puritanism. And his is not the end of the movie. It ends with Ronnie and Larry, with some kind of general statement (I think rather forced and sentimental) about suburban society and overcoming bigotry and learning to love one's supposed eneimes.

I think I observed that Field still has a bit of trouble with his endings.

Cut me some slack on details. It has been two months since I saw the movie at the NYFF and I've seen about 45 movies in theaters since that time.

[oscar jubis]

I'll cut you some slack, mon ami. I understand how details from films drift away from memory. It's only natural. Regarding Lady Vengeance, it's been well over a year since you saw it at the NYFF. I'd be surprised if anyone would be able to remember details for that long. Besides, this is Little Children's thread. So, enough about Park's movie after reiterating that: it is a departure and an artistic breakthrough for the Korean director, and that it rewards repeat viewings (it's available on dvd).

Originally posted by Chris Knipp
Now I don't think "the satiric bits in Little Children detract from the characterizations of the four main characters: Brad, Sarah, Ronnie and Larry." But at this point I'd say maybe the simplification of the secondary characters, the spouses, undermines the three-dimensionality of the main portraits.

Well, the spouses are certainly portrayed as people who are never affectionate towards their spouses and don't pay attention to them. All that Brad's wife seems to care about is his becoming a lawyer. So yes, the spouses are simplified and presented in a negative light. There are presented as spouses worth divorcing, in my opinion. And I find that hard to reconcile with the fate of both Brad and Sarah by film's end. Ending the film on that note is obviously an artistic decision. To me it sends a clear message. And it is not one to which I suscribe.


You might look to what Field has said about what he was doing for some sort of answer to your question, but I can't answer your question, and that aspect, like "message", doesn't interest me so much as the characterizations, the electricity in the park when the two people kiss and the matrons watch in shock and envy. It's about that kind of atmosphere and situation, not about "the middle class."

You said that Little Children is "clearly and forcefully in the vein of middle class social analysis". As such, It's supposed to be saying something, or hint at some conclusions. But I can put that aside and agree that the film offers four interesting characters, that a number of scenes have powerful dramatic intensity, and that at least two performances (Winslet and Haley) are deserving of some kind of recognition. I looked into what Field has said during interviews and the most relevant statements refer to wide disagreements between him and Perrotta about the ending. To me, the narrative aspects involving Ronnie and Larry are much more satisfying dramatically (even though the final scene verges on the obvious and sentimental) than the thread involving Brad and Sarah.

Why do you assume that Brad shouldn't pass the bar exam? Doesn't he need to do something? Maybe they need to stay in their bad marriages for a while longer till they get in a better position to move out. Their affair is too impulsive.

I understand it's been a long time since you watched the movie. But to answer this I have to point out that the film makes clear via scenes and narration that Brad hasn't studied at all for the exam, doesn't want to be a lawyer, and doesn't even take the exam the third time around. He's trapped in a relationship in which he has to portray being someone other than who he is. He has a long rendezvous with Sarah instead of going to take the exam. Sarah and Brad's affair is not impulsive. Weeks go by without them having physical contact while getting to know each other poolside.

It ends with Ronnie and Larry, with some kind of general statement (I think rather forced and sentimental) about suburban society and overcoming bigotry and learning to love one's supposed eneimes.

Field puts it like this: "we must take a breath before we start pointing fingers at one another". Clearly Larry's bullying and tormenting Ronnie is a reaction to his guilt feelings about having shot an unarmed kid when he was a cop. He takes the persona of "Super-protector of kids" only to end up with more reasons to feel guilty when Ronnie's mom dies.

[Chris Knipp]

You seem to be insinuating that I have forgotten what Lady Vengeance is really like, and that if I just get the DVD and repeatedly view it, I will learn to love it. That is unfair and unlikely. Park's trilogy -- though one may doubt that he will limit himself to that....he has already done other revenge films-- may vary in intensity or crudity, and it is certainly one of the most remarkable sequences of films of recent times, showing a disturibingly brilliant technical accomplishment, but they are all blood-spattered, chilling, and unpleasent, and I am sick of them. Some think Mr. Vengeance is the best; others prefer the gleeful intensities of Oldboy; you seem to prefer the female revenge story. They are all remarkable, and all ultimately deadening and irredeemably nasty. Lady Vengeance may contain humor, but it lacks the wit of Kill Bill Vols. I and II.

But no, we aren't talking about Park -- though you brought him uip, rather out of left field --; we are talking about Field's Little Children.

You seem to misunderstand what I said, which is that the ending is NOT "the fate of Brad and Sarah." Obviously the fact that their spouses are presented as unappealing, is unexceptionable. But the ending does not send the "clear message" that you see, which is an oversimplification.
To me, the narrative aspects involving Ronnie and Larry are much more satisfying dramaticallyIn the sense that it is more decisive and positive, yes, of course, though, of course, "final scene verges on the obvious and sentimental." Again, I don't think these "messages" or "conclusions" you keep harping on and searching (somewhat in vain) for are what makes this one of the year's best American movies. And other viewers do not see it as ending up the way you do. David Denby's discussion is an astute and very favorable one that I find helpful. Everybody notes the title, that it refers to the main characters. But Denby writes about Field and Perrotta, who collaborated on the script,
Together, the men have preserved Perrotta's tone, which fluctuates between slightly satirical, even mischievous, irony and the most generous sympathy. Perotta and Field make you see how their characters are weak or screwed up without allowing you to despise them. Moral realists, they know the world does not yield easily to desire. "Little Children" is a sharply intelligent and affecting view of suburban blues.... Also:
Field works with such fluid grace and perception that the movie goes right to the top of the suburban-anguish genre. The picture is not as aggressively designed or as witty as "AMerican Beauty"; nor iis it as malicious as Todd Solondz's "Happiness." It's smarter, tougher, closer to the common life. That's how I'd suggest you look at the movie--as a statement of a situation, and a series of keen observations, not a conclusion or a "message." It is not just "four interesting characters." It's a portrait of suburban middle-class married life. But it can't be summed up in some kind of 25-word conclusion. Its merit lies in its rich and intense texture, which comes out of good cinematography and mise-en-scene and working well with good actors. It has not been such a long time since I saw the movie. I remember it pretty well. I just meant earlier that I was writing without reviewing my notes or my review.

As for Brad's future prospects, all I can say is that I had a good friend and neighbor who failed his bar exam multiple times -- four or five. He was having too good a time with his young wife tinkering around in the woodshop and practicing his music to focus. But eventually he buckled down and went on the become one of the outstanding lawyers in his field in California.

Denby at the end of his review:
At first, Sarah and Brad seem prematurely defeated. Yet the filmmakers hold out the possiblity of new life stirring under the dmoestic halter and the intellectual sloth. He presents a moment, and a slice of social life. All the T's aren't crossed or i's dotted, and they're not meant to be.

[oscar jubis]

Lady Vengeance is the type of film that is so "rich" that its pleasures and insights are unlikely to be completely exhausted after one viewing. That's been my experience with it. I am so pleasantly surprised at Park's new maturity, but you keep referring to Lady Vengeance in terms of "Grand Guinol" and "deadening and irredeemably nasty". Sounds kind of odd to me. When I think of certain aspects of the film, particularly the last chapter, I think of Bresson or Tarkovsky! I don't understand how it is unfair on my part to state that the film rewards repeat viewings and that it is available on dvd. I do think that everyone should watch it twice because I got more out of it the second time around and perhaps others would also. What's wrong with that?

It's fair for you to quote Denby to present an opposing point of view (after all, I quoted a Village Voice review earlier). I give credit to Perrotta and Field for creating characters one can imagine have lives outside the confines of celluloid. That's precisely what Mr. Denby is doing when he writes about "the possibility of new life" for this characters. I say let's judge a movie by what is in it. Let's hold the filmmakers responsible for the artistic decision they made: to end the film with Brad injured and hospitalized, and Sarah walking back home dejected and resigned. That's the last image of Sarah the filmmakers chose to include, and there's nothing in the voice-over that gives one hope. It's a decidedly depressing note. Yes, one is free to imagine she meets Mr. Right the following day. Or that she goes into the bathroom and slashes her wrists. But those are other movies, not this one.

[Johann]

Interesting discussion.
Big screen or small screen?
Should I wait?

[oscar jubis]

Glad you think so.
Out of the three opinions about Little Children expressed here, mine is the least enthusiastic. And I think the movie is good enough to watch in a theatre. But it's fall and there are many good movies out there. The Queen, Almodovar's Volver and Linklater's Fast Food Nation are better, in my opinion. I happen to think you'd really appreciate Linklater's film. Is it playing there? I'll be posting about it soon.

[Chris Knipp]

Oscar--I'm sorry, I simply think you misread both films. I'll grant you Park is brilliant technically. He's an enormously inventive filmmaker. And he is full of ideas. I've heard him expound n them (though I'm not entirely sure what they have to do with his actual films). I don't like the point of view. You may argue that Lady Vengeance has a softer approach, but that is misleading to anyone who hasn't seen the trilogy, because Park's style is one of glittering, non-stop shock cinema. Its remoteness from any morality one can ascribe to makes me surprised that a person like you who seeks values in film and have condemned other movies for being too violent somehow licenses Park to be indulged.

As for Little Children, your reading is too literal. YOu keep looking for what isn't there, and missing what is. The way it ends with Brad and Sarah's plan to run off disrupted shows that their summer affair was ill considered, or that luck has just not been on their side this time, but it is hardly the end of these two young people's lives, and though their marriages suck, this isn't a viable alternative. At the same time, as I said, I think Field has trouble with endings and this one could be better, including the sentimentality of the finale with Larry and Ronnie. I don't know if these endings follow the novel or depart from it--and haven't seen a comment about that. Though I quoted Denby, I haven't been scouring the reviews to find views that back me up. I do think Denby has written some good stuff the past few months--his piece on Flags of Your Fathers is terrific. He can seem completely off key, though the fineness of the writing is always there with The New Yorker's writers, but just recently he seems to be on a roll. He may have gone a bit overboard on LIttle children, but that's his style: he comes on big for the stuff he likes. And I think he's right that it's one of the year's best. The Queen I'd rate about on a par. It is lifted by Mirren's performance, but doesn't have the panache of the QEII of A Question of Atrribution. Volver--another category, also good, with Cruz fine. I haven't seen Fast Food Nation (which Denby panned, now that I think of it), but I have doubts from what I've read and for my money probably one great Linklater film a year is the most we can expect and that one's A Scanner Darkly.

Johann--Little Children in theory is the kind of stuff that works okay on a small screen. However I found its visuals really powerful and strong on the big screen. The Queen is a grand spectacle and would be better seen on a big screen. It isn't Frears' best work but it's very enjoyable, terrifically well done.

[oscar jubis]

Originally posted by Chris Knipp
I simply think you misread both films.

I could also assume mine is the only right way to interpret these films and say you misread them. But, what's the point? I feel satisfied that I've expressed my point of view persuasively. Plus, you didn't address my response to Denby's argument. So...looks like a dead end to me. Perhaps others will opine and enliven the discussion.

[Chris Knipp]

It's fair for you to quote Denby to present an opposing point of view (after all, I quoted a Village Voice review earlier). I give credit to Perrotta and Field for creating characters one can imagine have lives outside the confines of celluloid. That's precisely what Mr. Denby is doing when he writes about "the possibility of new life" for this characters. I say let's judge a movie by what is in it. Let's hold the filmmakers responsible for the artistic decision they made: to end the film with Brad injured and hospitalized, and Sarah walking back home dejected and resigned. That's the last image of Sarah the filmmakers chose to include, and there's nothing in the voice-over that gives one hope. It's a decidedly depressing note. Yes, one is free to imagine she meets Mr. Right the following day. Or that she goes into the bathroom and slashes her wrists. But those are other movies, not this one.Sorry, I guess I wandered off in talking about Denby. I found this paragraph of yours a little confusing though. You "credit Perrotta and Field for creating characters one can imagine have lives outside the confines of celluloid," and you say Denby is doing that too; but you don't want to do it: "Let's hold the filmmakers responsible for the artistic decision they made: the end the film with...." etc. Then you continue, "That's the last image of Sarah the filmmakers chose to include, and there's nothing in the voice-over that gives one hope. It's a decidedly depressing note." Yes, perhaps it is a depressing note, but Larry's going to the aid of Ronnie is a decidedly heartwarming note, even if it seems too sweet to be true. If we can imagine the two lovers as having a life "outside the confines of celluloid"--in other words as having a life beyond this ending, there is no reason to think their failure to run away together is the end of the world. What you are saying is, rather paradoxically in view of what you've just said, that you can't imagine Brad and Sarah as having a positive future. BUt they can. Sarah has been sexually reawakened. Brad has found something similar. To use the Henry James phrase, they will never again be as they were. This is a positive development, a classic one in fiction. And it is a hopeful one: to be awakened. What will happen is not shown in the movie. But if we can imagine these characters beyond the "confines of celluloid," we can see them as taking control of their lives now, whether together or separately. The depressing note is not so final as all that. They are little children. They are beginning to grow up. Their lives are still ahead of them. Nothing is permanently shattered. I'll repeat Denby's concluding lines:
At first, Sarah and Brad seem prematurely defeated. Yet the filmmakers hold out the possibility of new life stirring under the domestic halter and the intellectual sloth. Adults may not be happier than overgrown children, but at least they have a chance of finding out who they are. There is no reason to imagine Sarah either slashing her wrists or meeting a new "Mr. Right" the next day. But there's every reason to think both characters have come alive and will stop being appendages of their domineering. condescending spouses. The "depressing note" is a reality check: this summer romance isn't a solution to their problems. If they're going to split, they have to prepare better than this. But it's not the end of the world. Little Children is more about beginnings than about endings.

[oscar jubis]

Before I continue, I'd like to point out that I think Little Children is a good movie. My prior comments indicate exactly what I found commendable in it. Also worth noting is that, even though you think Little Children is "great", you've found some aspects of the film less so. Hence our points of view are not as divergent as recent posts might indicate. (It's Fast Food Nation where we have very divergent points of view).

Originally posted by Chris Knipp
I found this paragraph of yours a little confusing though. You "credit Perrotta and Field for creating characters one can imagine have lives outside the confines of celluloid," and you say Denby is doing that too; but you don't want to do it

Yes, I want to do it. And Denby is free to "complete" the film however he wishes. Unlike Denby, what the film gives me doesn't lead to such an optimistic "afterlife" for either Sarah or Brad.

There are at least two reasons that contribute to an interpretation of the ending of the film as a type of punishment of Sarah and Brad. The characterization of their spouses is very sketchy and negative, at least as far as their regard for Sarah and Brad. The home lives of the "adulterous" duo are rather hellish. This makes Brad's injury and a dejected and resigned Sarah's return home a particularly depressing development. Secondly, Little Children clearly makes a correlation between Sarah and Flaubert's heroine with everything that implies.

"That's the last image of Sarah the filmmakers chose to include, and there's nothing in the voice-over that gives one hope. It's a decidedly depressing note." Yes, perhaps it is a depressing note, but Larry's going to the aid of Ronnie is a decidedly heartwarming note, even if it seems too sweet to be true.

I agree, and have all along.

you can't imagine Brad and Sarah as having a positive future. BUt they can. Sarah has been sexually reawakened. Brad has found something similar. To use the Henry James phrase, they will never again be as they were. This is a positive development, a classic one in fiction. And it is a hopeful one: to be awakened. The depressing note is not so final as all that. They are little children. They are beginning to grow up. Their lives are still ahead of them. Nothing is permanently shattered.

I can step out of my skin and see that this is all perfectly valid. I can't help to feel that they get punished at the end, and I don't like it. And I can't help imagining a future for these characters that is rather grey. Perhaps if I watch it again I would feel differently. Perhaps not.

[Chris Knipp]

I think we diverge significantly only in that you think Fast Food Nation better than Little Children, but in view of my opinon of Fast Food Nation, that is a significant divergence. I agree that you acknowledge Little Children to be a good movie.

I would interpret the sketchiness of the spouses differently than you, in terms of the "downbeat" ending for Brad and Sarah. I think it is the structure's way of saying those spouses are ultimately going to fall by the wayside. They are supporting players, not leads.

The analogy with Madame Bovary is both a tad too explicit and a bit pretentious and a bit absurd. It's pretty obvioius that this is another century and Sara isn't like Emma. Kate Winslet is not an Emma Bovavry. We'd have to give that to Cate Blanchett (since she seems to get all the roles) or more logically perhaps a French actress like Isabelle Huppert -- who of course did play her, in 1991, for Chabrol. Sarah's passion for Brad is not a destructive passion like Emma's. The comparison really can't be carried very far. Kate Winslet's vibrancy, her life, her humor aren't suited for a provinncial tragedy, though they work just swell in a suburban modern satire about repression, prejudice, hysteria, and lust.

But of course what happens after the film's action is not anything we can either of us prove.

And if you wanted to extrapolate by analogy with the ending of In the Bedroom, which is so violent and destructive, you might argue that Field did have doom in store for his lovers here, after all. I just don't feel that, because the bulk of the movie, as it regards them, seems full of life and promise. Madame Bovary is a provincial tragedy, and it takes on that cast early on. It exists in the nineteenth-century context where a woman could be ruined. Sarah ain't ruined.

I can't convince you that my interepretation is the right one. But I just don't see the ending as "punishment." It is too temporary for that. It is a setback. It is preventing them from running away together. It is not preventing them from doing that som eother time. It is more a reality check, as I've suggested before: it's saying, "whoa, there! not so fast! It's not that easy!" It's avoiding a romantic, fairy-tale ending, which would not be in keeping with Perrotta's semi-satiric, but also highly sympathetic aims or with the sophisticated expectations that the film satisfies.