There are several moments in A Man Called Otto that distinctly betray the story’s non-American origins. It’s based of course on the acclaimed Swedish novel A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman, already adapted into a successful Oscar-nominated film in its’ home country. And it seems that Tom Hanks’ family was the driving force behind this U.S. remake, as the film starring Hanks is produced by him and Rita Wilson through his production company Playtone and co-stars as a younger version of the title character Tom and Rita’s son Truman. I’m honestly surprised Hanks didn’t direct it himself, that role falling instead to veteran Hollywood journeyman Marc Forster. The heart that they collectively poured into the film definitely comes across, and yet it doesn’t quite translate right.
The script by David Magee (reunited with Forster from Finding Neverland) works hard to adapt this story’s mix of bleakness, comedy, and tragedy –the effort is more than a little awkward, particularly around the flashbacks employed that chronicle the sentimental Up-like relationship between Otto Anderson (the young Hanks) and his wife Sonya (Rachel Keller). In the present, Sonya has been dead for six months and Otto, as played by the old Hanks, has become a grumpy curmudgeon to the other residents of their gated community in Pittsburgh. And in his masked grief, he’s been quietly attempting suicide as a means of “joining” Sonya.
The film isn’t quite prepared for this aspect of the plot, especially as it first comes in the immediate context of Otto’s cartoonish cantankerousness –making loud fusses about a slight overcharge at a hardware store, a young woman walking her dog by his walk, a UPS driver coming into the property, and the ever-present real estate company actors looking to gentrify the block (these last ones being the only deserving subjects of his ire). There are a few of these very dramatic shifts in how the character is framed by the film, accentuated by the gradual approach Forster takes to Otto’s character arc -and it can feel discombobulating where Hanks’ performance isn’t enough to salvage it. The suicide attempts line up with the flashbacks too, so that a scene where Otto is preparing to die via carbon monoxide poison is linked with a happy memory of proposing to Sonya right out of college.
This kind of lightness to the suicide feels very much like something the Swedish film could pull off -Scandinavians seem to have a knack for that marriage of sincerity and dark humour if Another Round and even The Worst Person in the World are anything to go by. But this American film isn’t quite willing to go so far with the humour, for fear of alienation -yet likewise doesn’t want to make the scenes especially grim; hence Otto’s fiddling with the radio in the car or his very casual ceiling modification for a noose. The result is a wishy-washy attitude towards its’ own severity that doesn’t much convey a real sense of gravity –and the flashbacks being the only outlet for Otto’s psychological complex around his wife doesn’t help.
Not only are those sequences painfully trite, shot and performed with the cornball sincerity of a Hallmark special (the younger Hanks does not have his fathers’ talents, to put it generously), but they’re pretty emotionally vacant sequences too, despite trying their damnedest to mean something. They culminate in a frequently forecast reveal that has very little bearing on the themes being stressed in the present storyline, at the same time taking the issue off of Sonya specifically and her place in Otto’s heart and applying it to a particular trauma that defined both their lives. Limply, the script ties this into the development of Otto’s forthright principles, and in a way that makes sense, but it leaves Sonya herself as a less important determinant in the trajectory of Otto’s moral character. It’s all just very bizarre and poorly executed.
By contrast, it’s the more conventional stuff in fact, the gradual transformation of Otto’s dour and aggressive attitude through interactions with his community, that works most strongly. And a lot of that comes down to Mariana Treviño as Otto’s friendly, expressive, and honest new neighbour Marisol, who breathes a great deal of charming warmth into the film. She is a spontaneous and earnest delight who effortlessly sells the effect she has on Otto’s own attitude; the areas of the movie focused on her, her family, and her relationship to the grumpy old man being highlights of the film, set apart by a real sincere tenderness. There are other nice moments between Otto and the neighbourhood’s residents; like his stern defence of Anita (Juanita Jennings) against the efforts of a bogus eviction, in spite of his grudge against her disabled husband and one-time friend Reuben (Peter Lawson Jones) –a falling out based in the dumbest of reasons as we eventually learn. Or there’s his modest sympathy towards Malcolm (Mack Bayda), a transgender teen and former student of his wife’s who has been kicked out of home. There’s a touch of transparency to these, as they perhaps too proudly play off the expectation that Otto is a racist or transphobe, but Hanks and his co-stars communicate well a sense of strong-principled decency. And these moments are the rare times to allude to Otto’s compassionate side, as much as he may rail against people’s stupidity in boomer tantrums or endeavour to shun the stray cat he is ultimately forced to adopt.
It is community that is ultimately the central theme here, and a surprisingly socialist take on it at that, another residual flavour of the movies’ European root. An atmosphere of collective unity and support is what will pull Otto out of his post-grieving funk, give him that reason to go on living. At one point it is literally the community stepping in to take care of one of their own against the corporate institution –which is played by the film as almost a fantasy. And the ending is rather attractive in that same idyllic way. Yet, while advocating and quite intently the benefits of community over individualism, the movie still demonstrates a certain antipathy towards a part of that community that reflects but not consciously so Otto’s own. There’s a fair amount of reductionism where the movie concerns Gen-Zers and those on the younger end of the millennial spectrum. The script creates the fictional job of “social media journalist” for the purposes of poking fun at the Instagram generation. More egregious though is a scene where a man falls onto a train track and a crowd of twenty-somethings demonstrate an almost callous disinterest in attempting to rescue him from an oncoming train –concerned far more with capturing it on video. Otto of course saves the guy, he and a couple other older men the only figures to take an active role at all. It’s a shocking bit of flat stereotyping against “young folks” that speaks to an authorial voice proudly disconnected from blatant reality.
Stuff like this in concert with the mix of socialist themes, saccharine backstory, and attempts at bleak irreverence really cloud who A Man Called Otto is for. In a North American context certain perceptions expressed by the movie seem diametrically opposed, its’ heavy tonal choices strain believability even further. Within the clutter though there are wonderful moments, characters and emotional beats and a sincere optimism that stand out and truly make you feel good –which I believe is above all the movie’s intention. If only it could get to that through cleaner means.
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