A straightforward study of two characters with a world of pain and regret between them, Juniper works almost entirely because of the two performances at its center – and two other strong performances from secondary characters in the background don’t hurt, either. There is nothing precisely new that writer/director Matthew J. Saville’s feature debut is saying about either the elderly grandmother reaching the end of her life or the tempestuous grandson whose acts of rebellion are obviously a self-defense mechanism. That barely matters when things are captured with this much clarity and emotional intelligence. It only really means the film also never quite escapes its relatively low-key aspirations.
Part of that might be because of the familiarity of the material and the set-up. We meet Sam (George Ferrier) as a troubled young man whose relationship with his father Robert (Marton Csokas, good as a man with a lot of love for his son and little idea how to break through to him) is as antagonistic is it clearly loving in a deep-down sort of way. Sam’s mother is not in his or Robert’s life anymore for reasons that are hinted at throughout but never quite directly dealt with, and resentment has caused more of a chasm than a rift. If Csokas is heartbreaking here, Ferrier’s debut performance is an auspicious one, attuned to Sam’s sullen sulkiness and cynicism, which are merely hiding a broken heart of its own.
Robert claims to have been called away on business, just as his upbringing calls him back home to his own mother. He leaves Sam to take care of Ruth (Charlotte Rampling), whose body is quickly failing her and who eventually enters hospice care near the final act. She is crotchety and mean and demanding, even for an old and dying woman, and Sam has inherited some of that spirit in their early interactions. The film turns toward a two-hander for the promising newcomer and the effortlessly brilliant acting legend, whose withering looks of deepest indifference are a thing of beauty. This is the type of role Rampling could perform in her sleep, which is to say it’s miles better than just about any actress of even slightly less skill could have achieved.
As the film turns inward, the seams admittedly do begin to show in Saville’s attempt to coax the drama out of this simple arrangement. Sam learns about some of the darker truths about his family life, as well as some of the surprising realities of his grandmother’s past and present condition. Ruth reconnects with some of her youthful exuberance, holding parties with Sam’s friends to the chagrin of her nurse Sarah (Edith Poor, affecting as a young caregiver whose patience is wearing thin) and even providing the alcohol for those events.
Inevitably, as has been revealed, Ruth’s health deteriorates further, and the final stretch of story in Juniper is all about reckoning in a way that is both predictable and necessary. There is no tidiness in this finale, either. Saville, whose hand by the camera is thankfully light, does not force relationships to mend or understanding to blossom. The characters are merely making baby steps toward recovery or something like it.
Photo courtesy of Greenwich Entertainment
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