I Smile Back | Adam Salky | October 23, 2015
Sarah Silverman’s performance in I Smile Back is nothing short of titanic. There is always a pressure when a beloved comedian decides to tackle a serious role, and Silverman’s success here is rooted in a total rejection of that pressure. From the first few frames to the last, she makes it overwhelmingly clear that she has nothing to prove to us, and in doing so, gives us one of the finest pieces of acting this year has offered thus far. Unfortunately, this performance exists within a movie that does not deserve it. Based on the novel by Amy Koppelman, the cluttered, poorly structured script and lackluster direction is something the cast finds themselves working against.
Laney Brooks (Silverman) is a New Jersey housewife married to successful insurance salesman and self-help guru Bruce (Josh Charles) with two small children. When we are first introduced to her, she gazes longingly out of her bathroom window at night, watching her husband and children play basketball while she sits, naked, about to snort three lines of cocaine off the back of her cell phone. She takes the drugs, and idly examines herself in the mirror, lazily lifting her breasts in lamentation of her encroaching middle age. We are introduced to Laney’s addiction as a present fact and reality with no clue to its cause, only grim and shocking examples of its consequences. In fact, it is only after her most horrific display of self-destruction (to which we escalate before we’re even halfway through the film) that we learn that at least part of her behavior can be attributed to a decision to stop taking her lithium to combat her severe depression.
Because of this extremely inconsistent pacing, it is nearly impossible to sympathize with this character, and were the role in the hands of anyone other than Silverman (who has made a career on being crass, caustic, yet irresistibly charming), it would have easily derailed before we’d even reached the midpoint. Her decisions repeatedly contradict each other, and not in a way that reflects the character’s complexity, but a screenwriter who cares more about pushing plot along rather than genuinely tracking her anti-heroine’s motivations. For example, when Laney has her “come to Jesus” moment after reaching true rock bottom in a cocaine and vodka-induced stupor (all of which happens in the comfort of her own kitchen, with no explanation as to why her husband, whom we know is awake upstairs, doesn’t at least come check on his wife whom he sees coming unglued), it is beyond inconsistent to see her enter a rehab facility unwillingly, given that the tone of the very previous scene would lead us to think she may have even volunteered to go. Add to this a sloppily-handled subplot of cliched “Daddy Issue” tropes, and we find ourselves in a paint-by-numbers addiction narrative.
The film offers no new element to any of the conversations it is attempting to engage. Is it a film about depression? Addiction? The genetic element of mental disorder? Sadly it never quite makes this decision, and leaves any emotional payoff in the latter sections of the film feeling totally unearned. Josh Charles’ husband character is two-dimensional and exists only to react to Laney’s behavior and push her toward new boundaries of self-annihilation, with little to no consistency of personality (It is unclear at the beginning even just how aware he is of Laney’s struggle?), and theirs is the most fleshed-out relationship in the film. All of this being said, the film is saved by two colossal points: Sarah Silverman’s fearless performance (which, were the piece as a whole better-executed, would be putting her at the top of any Oscar prediction list) and beautiful, wrenching Ibsen-esque final frames that conclude the film in a place of significant and poignant understanding of its anti-heroine, though it only just barely avoids a feeling of too-little-too-late.
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