Junebug

I respect any honest film set in the South, because it is a place that I love. Phil Morrison's film is one that understands the South, small towns, families, and people -- people with secrets. It is a film that is observant to detail and one that refuses to one-dimensionalize the South or the North. George is a man from North Carolina living in Chicago who marries Madeline, the owner of an art gallery. Soon they find themselves on their way to North Carolina where Madeline wants to recruit an eccentric, colloquial artist who paints sexual paintings of Civil War battles (it's less obscene than it sounds, I think), for her gallery, but so long as they're in the area they might as well stop and meet the in laws. The family, like most families, has secrets and issues, most of which are never revealed, but we know they're there. There's the slightly suspicious (of strangers) and domineering mother Peg; and Eugene, the meek but wise father; Johnny, the younger brother who is angry because he can't communicate with the world; and Ashly, his joyfully pregnant wife. As Ashly, Amy Adams is a revelation, one of the most truly sweet characters in film, but she is lonely because she loves Johnny who has difficulty relating, so she immediately latches onto her new sister-in-law Madeline, desperate to become friends. There's even a scene in a church, where the audience actually isn't asked to laugh scornfully at the church-goer's. in fact, George even sings a hymn in one of the films more poignant moments. Besides Adams, Scott Wilson stands out as the father, who is a man of few words and little emotion, but great understanding. It's often a quiet film, sometimes self-consciously so, and one that refuses to look down on any of the characters, but chooses to paint them as human beings -- flaws and all. I wish I could explain it better, but instead, I suggest reading Roger Ebert's review of the film, which for some reason strikes me as one of the best reviews he's written in years.