(Canada, 76 min.)
Written and directed by Brett Butler and Jason Butler
Starring: Robert Nolan
It starts like any other day for the unnamed husband, played
by Robert Nolan, in the Canadian indie darling Mourning has Broken. He wakes up and feeds the cat, Mignon (an
adorable scene-stealer), while his wife continues to sleep. It seems like the
start of a good day as the man prepares a fancy steak for the hungry kitty,
cooking it in butter and herbs like his grandma taught him, and creating an air
of joie de vivre by chatting to his
feline friend in Julia Child-ish faux-French flair.
But the day takes just about the worst turn it possibly can when the husband goes to rejoin his wife in bed. He complains about their ignorant neighbour who mows his lawn in the wee hours and remarks how well she can tune out the annoying buzz. It’s not that the wife is a sound sleeper, though, and he’s just being cranky. She is dead, having passed away in her sleep.
The husband is in a bit of a daze with grief. He tries to
live the day and to carry on as if nothing happened. He spends the day ticking
off the items on his wife’s “To Do” list for that day. The chores offer a kind
of bucket list that allows them to spend the day together for one last time.
It’s not easy to keep appearances as if it were business as
usual, though, when one carries so much grief. Mourning had Broken deftly reveals the breakdown of social decorum
in today’s fast-paced world where everyone is too glued to technology or too
tuned in to their own wants that they can’t respond to the needs of others. The
husband collides with a parade of ignorant Torontonians who act brashly and
cheekily without any sense of decency for the man on the other side of the
conversation.
The husband tries to smile and be polite as, say, the girl
at the tailor’s refuses to take back the wife’s unworn dress because the
husband doesn’t have the receipt. Oblivious lovebirds clog the path in the park
as they walk holding hands and pulling each other outwards because they’re both
too distracted with texting and tweeting to observe the people around them.
Drivers cause chaos and phony salespeople upsell to the point of madness.
The brotherly filmmaking team of Brett and Jason Butler help
the audience pinpoint the moment at which the husband snaps. A montage of frenetic
cuts keeps time with the signal light on the husband’s car as he waits at a red
light with a pharmacy on one side and a funeral home on the other. The pace
accelerates as the husband suffocates while he sits sandwiched in between life
and death: all he wants to do is forget the loss of his wife, but the red light
in front of him and the ticking light by his side reminds him of the
insufferable period of time he’ll spend without her. It’s an agitating sequence
to watch as the shots grow shorter and one loses one’s patience waiting for a
change. It’s a situation we’ve all been in, but not under the same context.
The husband who was sweet and gentle with the cat simply
cracks under the pressure of trying to maintain an air of kindness in a society
that doesn’t return the favour. Nolan gives a terrific performance as the
bereaved husband loses his composure. One can see the grief on his face and the
exasperation the man feels over trying to keep up appearances. The actor takes
the character on an impressive range, yet keeps the husband sympathetic even
when he starts to reciprocate the bad behaviour and rationalizes that two wrongs
make a right.
Mourning has Broken
hits its peak when the husband reaches the point at which unsavory social
decorum becomes unbearable. He’s at a movie theatre, trying to use a film (in
this case, the husband is watching fellow indie i am a good person/ i am a bad person by director Ingrid Veninger,
who is credited as an Executive Producer for Mourning has Broken) as an escape from his troubles. The scene is
perhaps the ultimate in modern-day ignorance as a barrage of whispers and tiny
lights destroy the film experience. The husband snaps like Howard Beale and
goes on a lengthy oration. Nolan’s hearty rant lets Mourning has Broken achieve a kind of black comedy: the context of
the situation is awful, but the mad prophet of the movie-house is giving the
ignorant cogs of society get the tongue-lashing they deserve. It’s a humorous
and captivating piece of satire that is instantly relatable, especially for
die-hard movie buffs who have always wanted to say what the husband is saying.
The gusto of Nolan’s delivery is enough to make one stand in the seat and yell,
“I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore!”
Mourning has Broken is
a moving and insightful character study that finds power in a small scale.
Perhaps it’s a victor of circumstance, as Mourning
has Broken was shot on the meager-est of budgets. It was one of a handful
of projects kick-started by Executive Producer Ingrid Veninger’s 1K
Wave Film Challenge (for which the filmmaker put up $5000 of her own cash
and winnings to inspire fellow filmmakers that nothing is impossible) and shot
in a mere five and a half days. The Butler Brother rise to the challenge, Mourning has Broken is an honest and
authentic film that is relatable in its observation of human (dis)connection
and its refreshingly real protagonist.
It’s a shrewd bit of direction to let the power of the film
rest on the strength of such an engaging performance. Mourning has Broken is essentially a one man show for Nolan, albeit
not in the literal sense of Robert Redford’s solo act of All is Lost, as each of
the bit players the husband encounters basically serves as a catalyst to move
the actor to another level of mania. Like the aforementioned Redford film,
though, Mourning is Broken is a great
example of the fine filmmaking one can achieve simply by taking the basic
elements of cinema—an actor, a camera, and a good story—and using them in top
form.
Rating: ★★★½ (out of ★★★★★)
Rating: ★★★½ (out of ★★★★★)
Mourning has Broken screens in Toronto at the Royal January
24-28 and 30, 2014.
