JUNEBUG

Carefully built character studies with sincere concern for real human emotions and insight into real lives have a tendency to make us want to stay within the small circle of lives they explore, getting to know each individual and their personal problems better. Movies like Junebug, one of those valuable rare specimens too few people see, are windows into other minds and for its comparatively brief running time of just under two hours it makes the dilemmas of the Johnstens, a dysfunctional family from one of those sleepy out-of-the-way towns in North Carolina, our concern. Ultimately, director Phil Morrison and writer Angus MacLachlan, who initially conceived of this work as a play, make it a bittersweet trip. We have seen enough of the Johnstens for closure, but still wish we could stay longer.

            Like the Johnstens themselves, we arrive at Junebug as strangers, observing people we hardly know and, at first, may not want to know. Then, as each of their stories unfolds, we become more and more drawn to the confined world presented until we become comfortable in it, surprising us with its rewards.

            There is certainly nothing very inviting about the Johnstens upon first glance. It’s are a matriarchal homestead dominated by Peg (Celia Weston) whose scolding has reduced her husband Eugene (Scott Wilson) into a cowering little man with a hushed tone, often retreating to the basement for the protection of his wood sculptures. She can’t, however, get through to her son Johnny (Benjamin McKenzie), who spends most of his time when not on the job at the rental center brooding around the kitchen, snapping at any passerby that sticks their nose his way. Not even his pregnant wife Ashley (Amy Adams) has much luck getting him to crack a smile. Having found both a home and a family with the Johnstens, Ashley is excited to start her own family with the new baby; a joy she can’t convince Johnny to take part in. What Johnny really wants is a mystery which comes close to being unlocked by an unlikely source, his brother George’s (Alessandro Nivola) new wife Madeleine (Embeth Davidtz), a free-spirited Chicago art dealer in town to make contact with a reclusive eccentric (Frank Hoyt Taylor) known for Civil War paintings, seizing the chance to meet her husband’s family.

            Madeleine steps into the Johnsten household like a being from another world and, indeed, she is. Her home are the art galleries of Chicago and the tiny paint-covered studios of the artists she pursues. Having spent her life in three continents, her perspective is wider than most and has learned to approach people on their own terms. Hence, her marriage to George is not that difficult to understand, especially considering that George has detached himself from where he came from.

            They meet at an art auction as the movie opens and she is drawn to his uniqueness and the sense of liberation he carries with him after his escape. Madeleine knows only that he comes from a small town in North Carolina, but has little interest in traveling there until she hears of local hermit and his surreal Civil War paintings. Madeleine likes George in the way that she could, theoretically, like anyone, she is intrigued by the enigma that he is. In six months they are married.

            One of the fundamental questions of Junebug is how her feelings for George change, if at all, when she discovers where he came from. It could be argued that when she first meets George’s family, Madeleine is simply reserving judgment. Everyone (Ma and Pa, Johnny, and Ashley) all seem a little odd in their own way, but she wants to give them a chance, though her patience is remarkable. Her empathy comes to a testing point as she helps Johnny with his book report on Huck Finn but, after a misunderstanding, the situation unexpectedly becomes a relief for Johnny. Discussing the novel’s theme of escape and freedom, Madeleine obviously can’t help but draw comparisons to George’s escape from the high tensions of his childhood home, a fact that begins to sink in after discussing the book. But the situation takes a different angle when the theme also strikes a chord with Johnny, who finds his chance to unleash his pent up resentment. He can never forgive his brother for leaving home, forgetting where he came from, and suddenly thinking he is better than his family. It is, of course, this very person George became that Madeleine fell for. The book report scene is the most crucial in the film as it is a wake up point for both Johnny and Madeleine that changes their perspective for good.

            Though Johnny may not know it, his resentment toward his brother is rooted in George’s successful escape from the fate that would have awaited him had he remained in North Carolina, a fate Johnny never had a chance to run from and is now cemented by Ashley’s pregnancy. Johnny scapegoats his future child but the truth is his future was secured long before. He never finished high school and his parents were never there for support. Johnny’s therapy is now to take out his anger on a society he thinks has kept him down. Naturally, he is at his best working with his peers who are on the same social and professional level as he. Notably, his outbursts usually occur when his inferiority complex is ignited by a seemingly trivial incident, such as using a VCR properly. How can he possibly think himself a capable father if he can’t even record a show for his wife? Of course, he doesn’t realize that Ashley is so happy to be starting a family that she is willing to put up with a lot, even if Johnny still can’t get over his brother having had a chance he did not.

            It would be easy to blame Peg, as Eugene is too submissive to have made much a difference for either son. But George transcended his childhood upbringing, escaped living the life Johnny lives and the one that befell his father, a man too scared to say a word to his own family. Together, the three Johnsten men represent a positive option (George), the turbulent option (Johnny), and the sad result of that turbulent option (Eugene).

            Interestingly, though, Peg’s disdain for Madeleine stems from her own inferiority complex. “She’s too smart,” she complains to her husband of her daughter-in-law, a criticism that seems hardly logical until we consider that Peg sees Madeleine as the sort of woman she could never be, open to a world she could never have.

            Peg cannot see that Madeleine also has her share of human shortcomings, which cause her some remorse later on. When the time comes for Ashley to give birth, Madeleine excuses herself from accompanying the family to the hospital in order to win back the artist who is swaying from the deal. She seems confident she is making the ethical choice and reminds George that closing the deal was the original purpose of their journey to North Carolina. George isn’t happy even if he knows how important the deal is to his wife.

            That the birth goes terribly wrong and Ashley miscarriages is not Madeleine’s fault, but it gives her enough doubt to regret her decision, even forgetting that she was successful in obtaining the artist’s signature on a contract. Her remorse is sincere because her regard for the Johnstens was genuine from the start.

            In truth, Madeleine brought some peace for the Johnstens. Ashley finds a friend she can look up to, Johnny was able to finally vent, hopefully saving him from a future as bleak as his father’s. A brief phone conversation Johnny has with Ashley as she recovers in the hospital gives some hope. A calmer, less angry Johnny comforts his wife and expresses his openness to trying to have a baby again, suggesting not only the fulfilment of Ashley’s wish but a rise in his self-esteem. Such changes may be too late for Eugene, but in Madeleine he finally finds someone with whom he can talk freely. Before leaving for Chicago, Madeleine digs up his lost screwdriver, ostensibly a minor act but something of a life-saver for a man whose only solace was his carpentry. Even Peg begrudgingly accepts Madeleine as part of the family, “she has good hands, I’ll give her that.”

            George sees this and is therefore willing to forgive his wife’s temporary lapse of judgment, their life together seeming secure as they head back home. His own moment of realization likely came the night before, when he was still hurt by Madeleine’s absence during his sister-in-law’s ordeal, an emotion expressed mostly through a lack of words, as he was seemingly making an effort not to communicate his anger, much like his brother. For the first time in Junebug there is no contrast between the bed life of Eugene and Peg and George and Madeleine. What earlier created a juxtaposition (the sexually active younger couple and the stale parents) are now virtually the same. If George saw the comparison, it’s no wonder he prevented his own marriage from heading in the same direction and made peace with his wife. And so their marriage was saved from the fate it could have shared with the older Johnstens.

            Junebug brings us into the tight world of a suburban family which, at first, startles us with their eccentricities until, as happens with Madeleine, we grow fond of them. Morrison allows us just enough time with them to watch their stories come full circle so that by the end we feel a sense of relief, having seen the problems of people we know well amended. His attention to each individual character is one of the advantages of working with material tailored for theater, where both location and cast can be shrunken down to one well-developed group.

            The greatest discovery in Junebug is Amy Adams who had started out in small parts before but proved her talent here, earning a string of awards (Critic’s Choice Award, Gotham Award, Independent Spirit Award, National Society of Film Critics, San Francisco Film Critics, Southeastern Film Critics Association, and Sundance Film Festival). Ashley may be her most poignant role, a woman whose constant happiness is sincere but a challenge to maintain, as it’s a response to lacking what she values most, a family. It was, however, only the beginning to a career that has racked an impressive number of awards for someone still so young. Junebug remains her best performance and she is, in many ways, the heart of the movie.