The Father

Director: Florian Zeller
Starring: Anthony Hopkins, Olivia Colman, Rufus Sewell, Imogen Poots, Olivia Williams, Mark Gatiss
Running Time: 97 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Florian Zeller's The Father employs a brilliant narrative device in conveying the anguish and confusion that accompanies dementia, its entire stucture functioning as a full reflection of its themes and suffering protagonist's state of mind. Placing us inside the shoes of a man who's mentally and physically fading  by the minute is a big risk, but it proves to be brutally eye-opening in showing the impact of a disease that still very much carries stigmas and preconceived notions. That's it's almost unbearably difficult to watch is exactly the point, especially considering our disorientation from seeing this pales in comparison to the pain of those who have actually suffered from it.

Adapted from Zeller's own 2012 play, Le Père, it creates a self-contained world where time ceases to exist, events bleed into each other, and faces and names change. You wouldn't be blamed for assuming that's a description for a sci-fi story story rather than tragic reality, as most commericals and trailers haven't done it justice, selling the project as a Merchant Ivory-type production focusing on elder care. But in downplaying its chief conceit from ususpecting moviegoers, it's only all the more impactful when the pieces start coming together. And that's a courtesy never entirely extended to the main character, whose saddest, most devastating scenes arrive in fleeting moments of recognition, where he "knows" something's wrong, if not necessarily what. 

In a career of full of legendary performances, a good case can be made that this is Anthony Hopkins' best, finding inventive avenues to practically normalize the most abnormal behavior, actions and observations. While extremely uncomfortable to watch, this only seems to make its viewing that much more essential. Given all the attention paid over the past few year to films tackling important social issues, it would be a crime if this somehow managed to fall through the cracks.  

Anthony (Hopkins) is sufferering from memory loss and dementia, constantly misplacing items, failing to recall key names and events, or even recognize the most familiar faces in his life. When daughter Anne (Olivia Colman) visits him in his London flat and announces she's planning to move to Paris with her new boyfriend, Anthony's rattled. Confused as to who this person is and worried how Anne's impending absence could affect his routine, he becomes increasingly belligerent, digging his heels in and proclaiming he's not going anywhere, most especially a care facility. Having already gone through numerous nurses, the latest whom he accused of stealing his watch, a new caretaker named Laura (Imogen Poots) arrives, baring an uncanny resemblance to his late daughter, Lucy. 

Radiating wide-eyed optimism and a strong desire to help, Lucy's won over by Anthony's humor and charm, blissfully unaware that it won't be long before she's on the receiving end of his verbal abuse, however unintentional. While adamently denying he's suffering a cognitive decline, inexplicable occurances and the presence of an unknown man (Mark Gatniss) and woman (Olivia Williams) only further disorient Anthony. 

With Anthony rapidly losing his grasp on reality, Anne is pressured by her increasingly intolerant boyfriend, Paul (Rufus Sewell) to institutionalize him. Seemingly surrounded by so many, her father couldn't be more alone, with the disease's progression continuing to take its toll, completely isolating him in ways that seem almost unimaginable given the care and attention he receives. Through no fault of his own, none of it will be enough.

Every event that happens from the opening credits right through the final scene should be taken with a grain of salt. Under normal circumstances, this could be seen as a creative fault or labeled as manipulative by some. But it isn't long before you gradually catch on to what first-time feature director Zeller and co-writer Christopher Hampton are up to and how accurately this non-linear, zig-zag style structure reflects Anthony's plight, allowing us to see this fragmented world through his eyes. 

Regardless of how true it is, Anthony views his daughter's flat as his property, initially coming off as a cranky codger who would scream at kids to get off his lawn if he had one. Of course, that's the disease talking, making it impossible to form any concrete determination about his actual personality. With dementia fully taking hold, he can be an intolerable grump one moment, before coming off as a completely kind and engaging old soul the next, almost as if nothing's wrong. But it is, and Hopkins expertly flips that switch, giving us fletting glimpses of who he was before his faculties left him. 

As one of our great living actors, it's hard to call any Hopkins performance underappreciated but what he does here is remarkable, appearing to almost play entirely different characters throughout, gradually appearing more dissheveled and tweaking his speech patterns and movements according to how far along the illness has progressed. Ironically, the most apt comparision just might be his work in 1995's Nixon, where with the sheer force of his presence he seemed to physically will himsel into becoming the disgraced 37th President despite baring very little resemblance to the actual man.   

At various points, viewers will ask themselves why Anthony hasn't been put in a home already, wondering how much longer this man or those caring for him can possibly continue like this. That is until realizing we have no idea of measuring how much time has passed over the course of the film's running length. It could be a month, a year or even possibly longer. For all we know it could only be hours, but the screenplay doesn't ignore how it feels like decades for Anne or any of the aids who look after him. The strain on them isn't lost, and in one especially powerful dream sequence, she envisions a particularly cruel solution to the "problem," as if it isn't harsh enough describing him with that word. And yet Colman's performance is still so empathetic it's hard to judge the character or imagine anyone wouldn't also hate themselves for feeling the same way.

Anne's approach differs greatly from that of her boyfriend Paul's, which is viciously intolerant, highlighting the issue of elder abuse in its worst possible manifestation. But even here it's important to tread carefully when detailing events since we can't be sure they're happening exactly how they appear on screen. Like Anthony, the viewer is overcome with feelings of mistrust, disbelieving everyone and everything that's seen, until that frustration begins to turn to self-doubt. And despite being based on an acclaimed play and largely taking place within a single setting, most of what surrounds Anthony is constantly changing, sometimes in barely noticeable ways that challenge the audience to pay attention to even the smallest details within the apartment flat. This makes an emotionally triggering experience surprisingly ripe for repeated viewings in order to pick up on what was likely missed during an initial watch.  

Even when we're not completely sure what's happening, Hopkins ensures all the physical and mental signposts of Anthony's deterioration are present. Sometimes it's subtle, while at others it isn't, gradually worsening until it culminates in an ending that might be the most uncomfortable we've seen in years, with his entire state of mind regressing into childlike infancy. In personalizing the trauma by throwing viewers in headfirst, we're forced to confront the harsh truth of a rapidly vanishing mind. It would be flippant to call The Father an unforgettable experience since this material so painfully demonstrates that there's no such thing. Instead, it shows us that any memories, including those taking place over the course of this film, shouldn't be so easily taken for granted.