(***
THREE STARS OUT OF FOUR)
Farm life in American movies is generally a big deal. It's big
families doing big amounts of work on big expanses of land. The
people eat hungry-man meals and tackle the worst disasters together,
often with a big boost from the likes of a Mel Gibson or a Jessica
Lange. Their hearts, hopes, and dreams? Big, big, big.
Then there's "Tully." Despite having many of the elements
of a traditional man-and- manure epic, this first feature from
the Wellesley-bred filmmaker Hilary Birmingham is all about
the little things that give meaning to rural life. In much the
same way that John Updike's short story "A & P"
is only nominally about a supermarket, Nebraska's endless waving
fields and impossibly perfect sky cradle "Tully" but
never threaten to consume it. At the end of the day, the people
matter more than the infinite sunsets.
Two
Tullys, in fact, headline Birmingham's script, which is coauthored
by Matt Drake and based on a short story by Tom McNeal. Veteran
character actor Bob Burrus plays Tully Coates Sr., a stoic man
who's raised two sons alone since their mother went out of their
lives long ago.
Settled
in with his rose-colored memories and his weekly six-pack of
beer, the elder Tully seems a simple enough guy - that is, until
the barn door is thrown open on a gnarly crop of secrets that
threatens to take away the family's home.
It's
then that Tully Jr. (Anson Mount, who survived "Crossroads"
with Britney Spears), must reach beyond his playboy charms and
limited worldview to truly come of age. He gets help from a
younger brother, Earl (the perfectly pouty Glenn Fitzgerald),
and a hyper-observant veterinarian in training named Ella (freckle-faced
Julianne Nicholson). But, as with most emotional arcs, this
is largely an individual journey
.Mount's
considered reading of his character's multilayered story goes
a long way toward proving he isn't just another pretty face.
And he's all the more convincing in the company of Nicholson,
whose delightfully frank girl next door calls out the insecurities
raging under that playboy veneer.
"Tully" isn't without its stock elements. Get past
the prize- winning horse and the sun- dappled swimming hole,
and there's still the local bar frequented by the local honey
who (what else?) strips for a living.
But
Birmingham's small-town portrait isn't "Sweet Home Alabama"
hokey or insulting. There's always more going on here than meets
the eye. In fact, another Reese Witherspoon movie, 1991's "The
Man in the Moon," comes closer to "Tully" as
an intimate exploration of young lives shaped by a tragic awakening.
Both films are interested in something far richer than their
humble country trappings might suggest.
Birmingham
takes great care to present verbally challenged male relationships,
whether between father and son or between brothers, with depth
and sensitivity. Likewise, she puts an intriguing spin on some
strong female characters. But the boys' enigmatic mother begs
to be fleshed out in greater detail, even if there are those
who might think "Tully" is already long and languid
enough.
The
film's unhurried pace is actually one of its strengths. Entirely
appropriately, the tale unfolds like a lazy summer afternoon
and concludes with the crisp clarity of a fall dawn. That's
not just a farm movie, that's life.
–
Janice Page
(c)
Copyright 2002 Globe Newspaper Company
http://ae.boston.com/movies/display?display=movie&id=1933
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