There's something admirable about wild swings, especially when they don't connect, because it's at those times we register how big of a risk the film takes.
& Sons, directed by Pablo Trapero, adapted from David Gilbert's novel with a script by Sarah Polley and himself, is a film that swings and misses, and does so with just enough force to make the effort itself interesting. It's a weird and tonally inconsistent mix of genres and styles packed with great performances that captivate even the material itself doesn't.
Because of the tonal shifts, & Sons has two, maybe three parts, and explaining anything beyond that would be a disservice to the viewer. At the same time, most of the issue with the film reside entirely in everything that happens at the end of the first act, and the revelations in its immediate aftermath. Simply to say that this is a frustrating film isn't enough, but to explain further would spoil it entirely.
Suffice to say, & Sons is the story of a reclusive writer (Bill Nighy) nearing the end of his life, who invites his estranged sons (Johnny Flynn and George MacKay) to spend time with him and their step-brother (Noah Jupe) before the inevitable happens. Their past is not a happy one, and all three boys have valid reasons to dislike their mercurial, often intolerable father.
Then, daddy dearest drops a revelation that forces everyone, including himself, to revisit past grudges and personal histories and re-examine what their immediate future and legacy will look like before their time together is out.
The vagueness is intentional. Other reviews have spoiled the shifts, and if you really want to know what's coming, it isn't hard to piece the puzzle together. But going in blind works in the film's favor, even if knowing that something will happen might already load the front half with expectations the story can't meet.
The acting is by far the saving grace here, with great performances from Nighy, Flynn, and MacKay. Their characters are drawn exceedingly thin, so it's downright miraculous each one pulls so much out of so little. Nighy has always been great at the depressed-and-angry-but-deep-down-sincere act.
The script, sadly, gives very little reason to like his character this time around, which makes for the second half of the film less interesting by comparison. We're supposed to empathise with his poor choices, even if we don't condone them. But I found myself often just not caring, which is worse.
By the end, Trapero and Polley dance too gingerly on the line whether or not things are real or imagined, and it eats away at the most interesting parts of the drama. Every time we think there's an emotional beat to focus on, & Sons drifts into another direction. It feeds into the anxious, high-wire energy that MacKay brings to his part, but not much else.
There's a lot to appreciate in the gentle chamber piece nature of it all, especially when Trapero leans into other genres while still firmly planting his feet in kitchen sink drama. It's just not enough of one thing to really make a lasting impression. Instead, it's a bit of everything, each of it kind of good, yet so muddled together that the result is flavorless.
