You Can Count On Me is a fantabulous flick made by people who actually have a story to tell (not a gross-out bandwagon to jump on), and who loved doing it. It is the work of a writer who felt compelled to direct his own material. Kenneth Lonergan apparently didn’t feel he could trust directors to correctly interpret what was written, and so took it in his own hands.
You Can Count On Me’s auteur Lonergan is a man who trusts his audience and takes the time to tell his story, develop his characters, and then let them breathe and blossom. It is a quiet, beautifully written, often funny story about likable people that screw up but keep trying. You Can Count On Me is about a single mother (Laura Linney) still living in the town where she was born, afraid to leave. She is in and out of contact with her brother (Mark Ruffalo). They have an unusually strong bond because their parents died when they were only kids. After traveling the world and spending time in jail, Ruffalo is back in their home because he needs money. He’s a loser, but knows it so he does what he can and tries to stay out of the way.
Ruffalo’s return to their upstate New York town is at first a blessing for Linney. She is maternal toward her brother and wants him where she can see him. As she is with her son, she’s overprotective and doesn’t trust him to make his own decisions. But, because of her new boss (Matthew Broderick again doing a great job as a intimidated, confused wimp), she has to put her young son in his care. The son and brother bond, and although Ruffalo’s a loser, he’s the best male role model the kid has. Linney is so worried about Ruffalo that she can’t even see what a screw up she is, too. She sleeps with her married boss and strings another poor sap along. But the real heart of the story is Ruffalo’s struggle to find some worth in himself. He’s so beat down and convinced that his mere presence spells disaster that he tries not to touch anyone. His relationship with the son teaches him that it’s worth connecting and that he is important. Similarly, Linney has to learn to let Ruffalo and her son free. She has to stop mothering them and just know they can take care of themselves. There is no easy solution, just characters that grow believably.
Well, it’s not the kind of movie that’s easy to describe, but you just have to take my word that it’s worth every second and rupee to see, and if you’re like me, you might bawl a little bit but not let anyone see.
With You Can Count On Me, Lonergan started with the characters and then let them loose. You get the sense that these characters are so complete that he didn’t even know what they would say when he started writing a scene. And that’s beautiful. They talk and act like real people, with real things to say, and surprising observations.
In You Can Count On Me, you don’t know what the characters will do next. And I sat there most of the movie thinking ’’please don’t screw up again, please don’t screw up again, ’’ because I liked them and I could see the damage they could do to themselves. Yet, sometimes they do screw up, and they pay and it’s awkward and uncomfortable. They make real decisions that come from who they are. They aren’t set up like bowling pins, to be knocked over by loud, dirty gags.
Lonergan as director is subtle. Maybe slightly too subtle, but it’s clear that both he and his actors know who the characters and conflicts are. He lets some scenes linger too long, and about two-thirds of the way through, there was a little repetition of the messages. But still, Lonergan respects his audience to fill in the blanks and to understand the point. He doesn’t beat us over the head with a bedpan because that’s funny.
Thank you, Lonergan, for bucking the trend, being patient and telling the story you wanted to tell. Thank you for reminding why I love movies.