Tag Archives: Close to You

Half and Half

Close to You

by Hope Madden

“You were not worried about me when I was not OK.”

The quote is exactly the kind of lived-in epiphany you might expect from filmmaker Dominic Savage, whose work leans toward intimate improvisational dramas. In his latest, a young man, Sam (Elliot Page), returns home for the first time in four years—the first time since his transition. And though his family is supportive—almost giddily so—he dreads the trip because no matter who you are, your family is still on about their same shit.

So, Sam’s older sister’s concern about his job and his apartment and the stress he’s putting on his parents by staying away and how they’re all worried about him evokes a response that rings true no matter who your family is or how well you get along.

In these moments, Savage and Page, who gets a co-writing credit, unveil something so authentic that it’s impossible not to see both the uniqueness and the universality of their story. And Page is excellent, bringing an emotional depth and integrity to the character that reveals itself in scene after scene.

Close to You never wallows in tragedy or grief or pain, but in its best moments, it allows that sadness to singe its edges. The family drama builds relentlessly and honestly to something cathartic and difficult. Unfortunately, this is not really the story the filmmakers are telling. Savage balances the family drama with a romance. On the train in from Toronto, Sam runs into Katherine (Hillary Baack).

The two have history and a love story attempts to bloom, but it lacks all of the authenticity, detail and depth of the family drama. Nothing rings true, and the unstructured feel that gave the family’s storyline depth emphasizes emptiness in scenes between Page and Baack. Every time the film cuts away from the family to spend time in the budding relationship, you long to return to the unpleasantness of home.

When Savage finally abandons the family drama altogether in favor of the romance, the loose narrative feel becomes almost unbearable. Where early scenes spilled over with unspoken tensions and crackled with anxiety, later scenes meander and stall.

A stitched together whole of two unequal parts, Close to You leaves you wanting.