Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close review

The wounds of 9/11 remain fresh.  No form of art may be able to absolutely heal such hurt. The aftermath of 9/11 has proven that when art is handled without sensitivity and imagination it trivializes such pain and offends. It causes a divergence in the process of healing. Eric Fischl’s free-falling sculpture of a nude woman-meant to commemorate those who jumped or fell to their deaths from the World Trade Center and the Hollywood films such as Remember Me and World Trade Center caused such insult. For such sorrow, only time can make amends. Yet, there is a certain power to art that can be utilized as a positive agent. If created with compassion and imagination art can act as a catalyst towards personal and cultural transformation.  Not a film with out flaws, Stephen Daldry’s adaptation of Jonathan Safran Foer’s quirky yet heartbreaking novel Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close comes close to being such a vehicle.

(L-r) THOMAS HORN as Oskar Schell and MAX VON SYDOW as The Renter in €œEXTREMELY LOUD & INCREDIBLY CLOSE,a Warner Bros. Pictures release.

At its core, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close is a tender film that uses the national tragedy of 9/11 as a means to explore the bond between a father and son, the philosophy of what it means to live in community, and how to deal with the painful process of grief. The film really isn’t about 9/11. The story is set against the backdrop of the tragic events of September 11 and takes place a year later. The film centers on 9-year old Oskar Schell (played by Thomas Horn). Oskar, a gifted yet socially challenged preteen, who is a practicing amateur inventor, Francophile, and pacifist has been left depressed and traumatized. His father (Tom Hanks) died in the 9/11 attacks on the World Trade Center. Oskar comes to believe that his father has left a final message for him hidden somewhere in New York City after finding a mysterious key in his deceased father’s closet. Feeling disconnected from his grieving mother (played by Sandra Bullock), Oskar is driven by not only his grief but also by a small seed of hope: he believes the final message might be real. Oskar begins desperately searching New York City for the lock that fits the key. He tries to make sense of the senseless. His journey takes him through the five boroughs. He befriends a willingly mute old man, referred to as “The Renter” (played by one of my favorite actors, the exceptional Max von Sydow of Ingmar Bergman fame) who just so happens to be renting apartment space from Oskar’s grandmother. Oskar takes you on his journey as he attempts to make sense of a broken world with a desperation born out of love. You feel his pain and anger when he walks into his father’s room, sees the empty imprint of where his father once laid, and gently strokes the bed.  The lyrics of Bruce Springsteen’s Empty Sky evokes such emotions when he sings, “[It's] just an empty impression, In the bed there you used to be, I want a kiss from your lips, I want an eye for an eye, I woke up this morning to an empty sky.”

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close is a heartbreaking film to watch because the pain is so tangible. Anyone who has ever comforted someone who was experiencing the stages of grief can testify to this. Although Oskar comes across as a tiny adult-he’s brilliant after all- his mind still has the playful whimsy of a child’s.  He doesn’t know how to properly deal with his emotions. For many, this is the trouble of the film. They can’t except Oskar as a child. They find his outbursts irritating.

Oskar’s quest has been viewed as contrived by many critics. As Robert Ebert notes:  “The mysterious key, the silent old man…are the stuff of fairy tales, and the notion of a boy walking all over New York is so preposterous we’re constantly aware of it as a storytelling device.” I’d argue that Oskar’s quest is a realistic one, considering his age and the tragedy he suffered. His journey through the five boroughs takes him beyond his own loss to a greater understanding of the observable world around him. He comes to realize that his pain is collective; that he isn’t alone. Everyone has their cross to bear. He learns how to cope in a world beyond what is known. As Oskar’s mother Linda reveals towards the end of the film, Oskar’s journey was integral to his growth, to overcoming his fears and in one day, helping her to allow him to face the world without her. His journey serves as a lesson in what it means to be a free human agent for the capacity for good and evil, for loving and hating grows in action. He has a choice to be less human. What we learn from his journey is freedom demands the responsibility and participation of community. Oskar’s self-determinism brings him to the brink of such knowledge (although it perhaps escapes his 9-year-old mind). The search therefore for the lock isn’t arbitrary.

The emotion in the film is raw and unnerving because it is a reflection of what is real. It is delicately emotional but never maudlin for sentimentality’s sake. The performances are nuanced. Oskar’s confusion and anger is typical of a 9-year old who has experienced such trauma. The earnest and raw honesty of the film is balanced by many heartfelt moments of humor and instances of affection. The film did not trivialized 9/11 the way Hollywood has in recent years. 9/11 is presented respectfully, without exploitative motives. Daldry relies primarily on briefly glimpsed news footage and one explicit shot of the towers instead of elaborate recreations of the disaster.

On the surface, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close for the most part is an average film. Its story is one worth being told. It is a decent adaptation of a powerful book that reminds us that grief is a process that must be worked through.  It is cathartic but never hollow. If there is any failing it is that the medium doesn’t serve the content to the best of its abilities.  I’ll admit, Oskar is much easier to accept on paper. However, this a minor quam to have with a story with so much heart. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close asserts that we can choose to embrace the present no matter how dour and dark. We must willingly face our fears. And if we choose to do so continuously we may in the end arise from the ashes of our flawed world holding on to faith, hope and love. This message alone is worth the price of admission.