By Marc S. Sanders
The irony of Zach Braff’s Garden State is that the protagonist he portrays is heavily medicated to subdue any variation of depression or anger induced mood swings. Yet, it seems like everyone else in the picture should be off the drugs, and those that aren’t taking any, should revert to some appropriate pharmaceuticals. STAT!
Braff wrote and directed this quirky comedy-drama loosely inspired by his upbringing in northern New Jersey. He plays Andrew “Large” Largeman. He’s an actor living in Los Angeles when his father calls him to let him know that his quadriplegic mother has drowned in the bathtub. Andrew seems like what Cameron from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off might have become a few years after he kicked his dad’s prized Ferrari out the glass garage. This guy is sullen, sedate and when speaks or responds to a question, you might think he’s catatonic as well. He’s just so numb from the medicinal products he takes. They were prescribed by his psychiatrist, who also happens to be his father, Gideon, played with quiet tension by Ian Holm.
At the graveside funeral, Andrew comes upon some childhood friends who never left Jersey behind. Peter Sarsgaard is Mark who vaguely remembers Andrew and invites him to a party later that night which is likely just like last weekend’s party and the weekend before that. Mushrooms, weed, coke, alcohol. It’s all there.
The next day Andrew meets a precocious young lady named Sam (Natalie Portman) who recommends he fend off a humping seeing eye dog by kicking him in the balls. This unexpected introduction is what will meaningfully break Andrew of his stupor. The bond between Sam and Andrew will carve out the rest of Garden State following a meanderingly weird exposition. I’m grateful for that because just when you think this film is going nowhere fast, even if it is told at a slow pace, the story absorbs a sweet narrative shared between two very likable characters.
There’s a lot of eccentricities in Zach Braff’s film which he admirably wrote and directed as well. Living in New Jersey for fourteen years of my childhood, I don’t recall anything within my nearby Jewish suburban neighborhoods being this oddball. Then again, Braff is maybe a little too ambitious to have one strange character turn up after another. A woman at the funeral makes him a shirt that matches the wallpaper of the hallway. A dim-witted cop asks how he did when he procedurally pulls Andrew over. Another guy shoots flaming arrows into the air in the backyard of his mansion for Sam and Andrew to haphazardly dodge their descent.
Mark is not only a grave digger in the cemetery, but a robber as well, stealing the jewelry from the remains in the coffins. Sam lives with her mom and adopted Nigerian brother amid Dobermans and a hamster jungle gym that stretches the entire course of the house and serves as a hazard for one poor rodent after another. Sam has a well populated little pet cemetery out back.
Amid all these strange visuals and discoveries, there is a background to Andrew’s need to be drugged by his father. He was the cause of his mother’s disability when he was age nine and pushed her down, causing permanent paralysis.
There are colorful backgrounds to Andrew and Sam and a curiosity to learn more about them. Still, the film seems to stretch its running time with too much unusual, oddball material. I responded to most of it with a smirk or chuckle, but I ask myself why. Why is so much of this here? It builds up a setting, perhaps. I’m just not sure. There’s an overt weirdness to every single character seen in this film. Nevertheless, I don’t believe Braff’s intentions were to duplicate a Wes Anderson formula.
Fortunately, Zach Braff offers a wonderful character arc where Andrew becomes more and more awakened as the film moves on, while clinging to Sam’s company and abandoning his father’s prescriptions. Natalie Portman seems to mature over the course of the picture. Sam’s quirk is that she tells tall tale lies in rapid succession. That façade nicely breaks down to show the genuine person Sam truly is later. When her mother boasts a video recording of an ice-skating routine that Sam did while dressed as an alligator, the embarrassment on Natalie Portman’s face is so naturally telling.
Ian Holm should also be recognized as he portrays the opposite of whatever dialogue Braff wrote for the father character. That’s a great challenge. A scene in the kitchen has Gideon dressed in a bland, beige sweater and tie and he seems to hide within the pale walls of the room. There’s no life to the guy. Nothing stimulating, despite how educated the man may appear. So, it seems unjustified for Gideon to tell his son later that he wants them to be happy like they used to be. Braff’s character wisely responds by being unable to recall any time when they were ever happy. Moments like these are the strength and intelligence immersed in Garden State. The assortment of side quirks does not have this kind of staying power, though.
I like Garden State but there’s no way I could love it or embrace it. There’s just too much moroseness within the strange residents amid their sleepy conversations to make me want to stay with any of these characters. The benefit of watching the film is to see what Zach Braff, Natalie Portman and Ian Holm lend to the picture – three wonderful performances.
2 UNPAID MOVIE CRITICS!!!! 