A good story is the first step on the road to a good movie--but as
One True Thing demonstrates, it's only the first step. The film
takes its story from Anna Quindlen's well-loved novel about a young woman
dealing with the terminal illness of her mother; while that's a fine start,
dozens of forgotten made-for-TV productions and sappy tearjerkers have
fumbled virtually the same premise. The movie succeeds because it doesn't
rely on the story alone: It casts a rejuvenated Meryl Streep as the mother
and a believable Renee Zellweger as the daughter; it hires the sensitive,
unconventional Carl Franklin to direct; and it fills the screen with keenly
observed details.
Franklin branches out from his early critical successes in crime-dramas
(One False Move, Devil in a Blue Dress) to take the helm of
what ordinarily would be pigeonholed as a two-hanky "woman's picture."
Zellweger plays Ellen Gulden, a writer fighting her way up the career
ladder at New York magazine. When she finds out that her mother has
cancer, she moves home to care for Mom, a lifelong homemaker and avid
decorator who takes pride in community craft projects. Ellen's attempts to
keep her writing career alive clash with her unwanted duties at home, and
she starts to reevaluate her family life with an adult eye--seeing
unexpected strengths in her mother, who has always embarrassed her, and
finding unexpected weaknesses in her father (William Hurt), a literature
professor who keeps his unfinished novel hidden away like an insurance
policy against failure.
The movie unfolds in flashback as Ellen answers an investigator's
questions about her mother's death, and there is a moral dilemma lurking in
the final minutes. But Franklin and his screenwriter, Karen Croner, avoid
the pitfalls of hot-button issue advocacy on the one hand and treacly
sentiment on the other. Streep, who made her reputation playing the most
serious roles available, seems luminous and feather-light as she
surefootedly negotiates the comedy and tragedy of motherhood, trying not to
nag even when she doesn't understand or disapproves of Ellen's desires.
Zellweger's performance hits just the right notes too: Her character reacts
with anger as the partitions between work, play, social life, and duty
collapse under the pressure of family life. Only William Hurt, whose acting
is too idiosyncratic and unnatural to be ignored, strikes the wrong
chord.
But the strength of Franklin's eye for detail--his clear-eyed vision
through the temptations of the disease picture and the mother-daughter
picture and the chick flick--brings One True Thing safely past all
the points where it could have mired down. Mostly, he stays out the way of
the emotions that flow so naturally from Zellweger and Streep, keeping the
style unobtrusive and the atmosphere intimate. One True Thing is
penetrating and satisfying because it treats family and death like the
difficult realities they are, not like the usual overworked clichés.
Thanks to those extra steps, a good old story feels new again.