For every triumph like What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?, there’s an embarrassment like The Other Sister. The filmmakers must find a way to be realistic yet empathetic, keeping the medical terminology and the grislier, audience-alienating details to a minimum while steering clear of the condescension trap that can ensnare otherwise well-meaning souls. And, just as importantly, there’s got to be a compelling story, otherwise there’s really no point in making a movie at all.
Writer-director Max Mayer may be in a bit over his head with his sophomore feature Adam, a beautifully acted, but ultimately uninvolving drama about a young man with social interaction difficulties whose regimentally ordered life is topsy-turvied by the death of his father, the loss of his job, and a blossoming romance with the schoolteacher upstairs.
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In many ways Adam is like your typical Hollywood romantic comedy: Two unfairly attractive people meet-cute, sniff around each other for a reel or two in front of some lovely scenery, then go about trying to really, deeply communicate. The wrinkle here is that one of them is oblivious to the usual blow-off cues that might have deterred a suitor without Asperger’s. Some of the film’s more interesting scenes stem from the fact that Adam is literally literal. Reports that a former boyfriend slept with other people while they were together leads Adam to envision an all-out orgy, and when Beth asks Adam, “Can I have a hug?” it’s necessary to clarify that she would like an actual embrace from Adam and isn’t merely looking for permission.
But as Adam unfolds the plot veers down other avenues, one chronicling Adam’s search for a new job in light of his awkward interpersonal skills, and the other a Say Anything sort of thread involving Beth’s disapproving father (Peter Gallagher, behaving very Peter Gallagher-ly) and his legal woes. These subplots cause Adam to lose focus and momentum, though Mayer works mightily to tie it all back together. And while he’s often hampered by his own script, chock full of clumsy, unnecessary metaphors (I’m looking at you, raccoons) designed to drive home Adam’s feelings of alienation, Mayer also raises interesting questions about when love must become conditional. What’s frustrating is that most of his answers are a bit tidier than they ought to be, and Adam sometimes feel like a squandered opportunity to say something honest about life with Asperger’s.
Byrne does admirable work here, playing against both the ultra-honest Adam and her duplicitous dad, but Dancy—lately the best part of unworthy chick flicks like The Jane Austen Book Club and Evening—almost redeems the entire film with his skilled portrayal of the title character, using subtle body language and not-quite-eye contact to convey Adam’s inability to truly connect with the world around him. And though his detachment unfortunately becomes ours, it’s alternately fascinating and sad to note that the romantic trajectory of Adam and Beth is pretty much the same as most: family objections, work obstacles, and the woman’s dawning realization that if she wants the relationship to survive, she’ll have to become the caretaker. But what’s shocking is just how shocking it is to hear Adam actually say so.
Adam (PG-13) screens Monday at the Beartooth Theatrepub



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