Jonathan Flynn and son Nick are headed downhill in 'Being Flynn.'
Two men, father and son, share the name, Flynn. And as we meet them in Being Flynn, father Jonathan (Robert De Niro) and son Nick (Paul Dano) also appear to share a life trajectory—downhill. Jonathan, a self-styled “great” writer, is already well down the road to ruin, his loser status well in progress, whereas twentysomething Nick’s decline is still a rough draft. Paul Weitz’ script and direction tell a familiar tale: loser father abandons wife (Julianne Moore) and son, goes to prison and disappears, sending letters to son claiming to be finishing up the great American novel.
We meet Nick being kicked out by his girlfriend and taking his books and neediness to his drug dealer friends. They provide him with a room and a new love interest (Olivia Thirlby), who kindles a gleam in his eye and his life. She works at a homeless shelter. He needs a job. And pretty soon Nick is dealing with the rougher side of reality, scrubbing down drunks and wackos and providing beds and clean clothing to those who’ve hit a rough patch. The film has some clever, if jolting, metaphorical moments depicting a sliding scale of desperation. Nick, sleeping rent-free in an old strip joint and moving from booze to coke in rapid progression, is just a click away from the guys sleeping under the freeways. But if that is the film’s purpose, it just isn’t enough.
Raised by a single mom (Julianne Moore, seen in a few choice flashbacks), Nick carried a kid’s wistful torch for the father in prison, a father whose letters proclaimed that he was the greatest living American writer and “about to become well-known.” Keeping a notebook all these years, the son is nurtured by the same flame as his old man. Fine. But I must confess that at times during last week’s viewing the box of popcorn alone kept me in my seat as I watched a series of scenes unfold portraying pointless people in downbeat situations.
Even the sudden eruption of De Niro on the scene doesn’t do much more than remind us that this vintage star can still work a room, aided by ample expletives. Evicted from his apartment, the long-absent Jonathan suddenly contacts Nick and asks him for help moving all his belongings into storage. Dropping out of sight immediately afterwards, the foul-mouthed, bigoted, unlovable character (think Jack Nicholson without the charm) eventually turns up one night at, you guessed it, the homeless shelter where his son works.
I kept wondering to myself, ‘Why was this film made?’ as I watched Being Flynn revisiting countless hackneyed “tales of the city” scenarios about losers and their paths to self-destruction. Suddenly, about halfway through, I realized what I was seeing. Paul Dano—after the transition from kid actor in Little Miss Sunshine to youthful evangelist in There Will Be Blood—was producing a nuanced transformation that matched the great De Niro blow for blow. With the mouth of a wounded angel and the awkward gait of a stoned saint, Dano quietly stood up to De Niro’s histrionics and walked away with this small, and eventually potent, film. With his rail-thin frame and heart-shaped face, he may not be everybody’s revelation. But I was 200 percent enchanted by the end of this film. Worth the popcorn just to watch the next Christopher Walken emerge.
Being Flynn
R; 86 min
At the Nickelodeon
