Review of You Can Count On Me

Introduction

Just when you thought you were growing weary of small-town, picket-fence USA, with its placid façade inevitably failing to cover a seething cauldron of inner turmoil and existential despair… here’s another one! Terry (Mark Ruffalo) a misfit drifter and ex-con, flees the big city in search of comfort and tranquility in the house he grew up in with his headstrong but muddled sister Sammy (Laura Linney). You see, Sammy and Terry were orphaned at a very young age when mum and dad were splatted in a car-wreck (in an incredibly abrupt opening flashback), an incident which has forged an intimate bond between them. However, Sammy is shocked to here of Terry’s dalliances with crime, and their relationship is put under even greater strain when Terry becomes a reckless surrogate father for Sammy’s son (yet another Culkin, this time Rory.) Meanwhile Sammy flits between two contrasting love affairs, one with sane and sensible Jon Tenney, the other with erratic nerd Matthew Broderick, who also happens to be her new boss.

Video

Despite incorrectly promising us a 2.35:1 widescreen image on the packaging, this is just regular anamorphic 16:9. Luckily, the transfer is strong, despite some evidence of dust on the print.

Audio

A good stereo track, although one wishes we could enjoy the atmospheric locations and that glorious Bach-saturated score in 5.1

Features

Disappointing. Some uninspired interviews with the head-lining cast and director Kenneth Lonergan, plus the theatrical trailer.

Conclusion

My opening summary made this film sound like a bad episode of some ghastly, auburn-glowing Midwest soap-opera, when in reality this is a warm and intelligent domestic drama that lends some genuinely novel insight into brother/sister relationships. Playwright Lonergan’s keen eye for casting eventually wins out over some initially eccentric choices; Linney in particular is strong, in an Oscar nominated role, wrestling with her seemingly endless choices of ‘life pointers’ while managing her erratic brother. Relative newcomer Ruffalo equips himself well, managing to easily out-step the one-dimensional slacker routine and Matthew Broderick successfully underplays Sammy’s neurotic, irritating boss, Brian.

Of course, the central irony of the film is rather trite: Linney, constantly complaining about Terry’s lack of direction has herself no clue as to where she’s going, and indulges in an equally fruitless series of instinctual pleasures. However, it all does lead to a truly fantastic final scene, where Sammy and Terry find a chaotic moment of communion, where they finally come to terms with the bond between them while admitting that each of them must follow their own path. A quiet, elegant and rewarding film.