'Here' Review

The right concept meets the right creative person in Here, the film that finally breaks Robert Zemeckis from the hellish CGI hole he dug himself with his previous three features of Welcome to Marwen, The Witches, and the Disney+ Pinocchio. I shouldn’t get too ahead of myself though, as that wish has come true in monkey paw fashion, with Zemeckis veering his sights on the next step in the technological evolutionary cycle: artificial intelligence. It only makes sense that the two words that have invaded every aspect of our lives in such a short time finds its way onto the silver screen. And, most surprisingly, it’s only one of a handful of notable gimmicks that run amok in this intergenerational story that will surely be a sweeper at this year’s AARP Movies for Grownups Awards.

The rabbit hole concept of place and time are at the heart of this story, itself adapted from the graphic novel of the same name by Richard McGuire. What would you see if you could turn back time on one single spot? Did dinosaurs roam proudly? Did Native Americans hunt and gather on this land? Did the first colonial settlers lay claim to it? All that and more happened in the living room of Richard (Tom Hanks) and Margaret (Robin Wright), a baby boomer couple who serve as the anchor throughout the millennia. Small windows into the past are interspersed throughout: Benjamin Franklin’s son planting his estate on the land, an aviation enthusiast who buys the property at the turn of the twentieth century, the couple who invent the La-Z-Boy recliner in the living room, and a present-day African-American couple dealing with the pandemic and raising a son in politically charged times.

All of this freely flows nonlinearly, the dots of each timeframe being connected by literal rectangular frames that similarly overlap each other to the source material. The camera is fixed in an observational position within one corner of the room, never moving for a moment. It’s a way for Zemeckis and his Forrest Gump writer Eric Roth to zoom out from all the commotion of details and take a big-picture look at how we’re part of the circle of life.

It’s a bold concept tangentially akin to Richard Linklater’s Boyhood, although Zemeckis opts for the shortcut of visual effects here. Hanks and Wright first appear in the frame as their characters at seventeen years old, their faces de-aged by artificial intelligence and their bodies slightly animated to hide away all the mileage. It’s certainly a showcase for how far the technology has come over the years, more convincing than what Martin Scorsese tried to do with The Irishman and Ang Lee with Gemini Man, mostly due to Hanks and Wright still carrying a youthful energy. But it’s still an uncanny valley, and at no point can you fully buy famous actors in their sixties playing characters under the legal drinking age.

With the implication of imagery and traditional editing stripped away, the actors are forced to pick up the slack. They perform their parts as if they are in a black box theatre production, a scenario that might not have been foreign to them as the sets often look shoddily digitally created through green screens. Details about their lives and circumstances are announced with such cornily dramatic effect that’d be impossible to forget, which would have probably been a real threat considering such little time is spent with certain characters. How else can Michelle Dockery illustrate an entire chapter in the adult life of her character, the wife of the aviator, in just a few short minutes without overacting?

The drubbing of the message doesn’t take away from its effectiveness, especially as Alan Silvestri’s heart-tugging score works overtime. Richard allows his dreams to fall by the wayside due to words like downsizing, taxes, and mortgages. As time flies by, those things seem less and less important, with only the people closest to him and the memories he shared being what’s left behind. Even though we say “Yeah, yeah, I got it,” to every person older than us insisting that we cherish the time that we have, we never really seem to properly do that.

For some people, this might be the wake-up call they’ve always needed. For others, it’s just another hokey life lesson from people that the world has passed by. Even if you think you might fall in line with the latter camp, the concept, and potential to be touched by its message, is simply too great to nonchalantly pass up.