Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (2011) ✰ ✰ ½

When I wrote my book about Korean War movies, I grew to accept the dictum that Hollywood, generally, is about five years behind the times, that it takes about five years to gain the proper perspective to make movies about important subjects, such as the Korean War. Most of the major films were made after its conclusion, between 1954 and 1959. If this dictum were accurate all the time — which it isn’t, it’s only a generalization — then we would have seen films about the 9/11 tragedy as early as 2004 and 2005. But other than a few very respectful tributes such as The Guys  (2003), United 93 (2006) and World Trade Center (2006), Hollywood has tiptoed around this horrible event, and with good reason. Even a decade later, the national wound that it caused still hurts.

I think that helps explain some of the outcry against Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, in which a young boy (Thomas Horn) tries to make sense of his father’s death on “the worst day.” Stephen Daldry’s film is sensitive to the emotions it evinces — perhaps too sensitive — and in the end it calls for us to move on with our lives, as the boy must move on with his, yet there are people who feel that such a story is, even a decade after the fact, personally offending. I wasn’t offended, but I must admit that the story made me uncomfortable. It was difficult to watch at times, especially knowing before the characters do what the outcome will be.

Yet such difficulty and discomfort are necessary and even beneficial as we pick up the pieces and get on with living. The movie doesn’t, and cannot, answer questions about 9/11 or make sense of what is essentially insensible. Telling the story from the child’s perspective makes all kinds of dramatic sense because of that, and Daldry deserves credit for tackling such an ambitious project, one that galvanizes people in myriads of ways — including not wanting such a project to be made. Some people will never see or wish to see movies about this catastrophe, and that is their right. But perhaps it is okay to start really examining the event in our books and movies, to finally begin to come to terms with it.

The movie itself is unusual, in terms of its content and its style. Some of it is very effective, and the 9/11 scenes are hauntingly realistic. I found the film off-putting due to the boy (who is in desperate need of counseling), his strange, silent neighbor (Max von Sydow), and the boy’s utterly insulting demeanor to a doorman (John Goodman). That, and the fact he travels all around the city, mostly unchaperoned, in a hopeless chase for knowledge he cannot hope to find. This last factor is rectified late in the movie, which made me feel much better about things. And I liked that, finally, the boy is able to keep going, to once again experience happiness and joy. Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close (what a cumbersome title) is an important movie that will bring back a lot of terrible memories for the people who watch it, but which may also help to deal with those feelings and provide some rewards for its viewers. It’s so odd that it’s hard to recommend, but it is probably worthwhile.  ✰ ✰ ½.  31 Jan. 2012.

2 comments

  1. You need to watch this again. One of the worst movies of the year which attempts to blackmail you emotionally to be interested or involved. This movie is the singular reason the Academy Awards needs to drop the pretense of having more then 5 nominees.

  2. I have issues with this movie, mainly that it is so strange, and that even a decade after the events of 9/11, it still feels too soon to have to deal with them as “art.” Personally, I don’t really want to put that day in perspective; I still despise the bastards who did it and never want to forget my righteous rage. It’s like this generation’s “Remember the Alamo!,” to use a historical metaphor.

    But is that why you think it is “one of the worst movies of the year?” It is different, but being different is not the same as being bad. I think it’s too artsy for its own good, and the kid’s behavior bugged me at times, but its emotional punch felt very genuine. Blackmail? No, I don’t think so.

    As for the Oscars, perhaps I’ll write about this year’s change. I don’t see the large number of nominees being a pretense, because the traditional number, five, is an artificial choice to begin with. Back in the 1930s there were ten choices, and even twelve for a couple of years. Five is a nice number but it could easily have been three, six or eight. There’s nothing magic about five, although because five was the standard for so long it has become accepted. Is nine too many? Yes. Actually, I’d like to go back to five, too, but I cannot fault the Academy for trying something new to invigorate the process. And I certainly agree that this movie does not belong in the bunch, whether the bunch is five, nine, twelve or fifteen.

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