OnScreen Review: "Hillbilly Elegy"
Ken Jones, Chief Film Critic
Hillbilly Elegy was a recent bestselling memoir by J.D. Vance that helped to shine a light on the opioid crisis in America. Among other books, it has also been pointed to in the post-2016 election time period as an important piece of writing to understand groups of people who have felt marginalized: the poor working class, uneducated whites, forgotten America, Trump voters, et al. Under the direction of Ron Howard, Netflix has adapted the memoir into a film, one that clearly aims for the Oscars but falls far short of its goal.
It seems that every year there is that one film that comes out in the fall or winter prestige season that has Oscar aspirations but falls on its face as a pretender in a sea of contenders. Unfortunately, Hillbilly Elegy looks to be that film this year. It’s unfortunate because one gets the sense that there is a worthwhile story to be told here. We have seen plenty of films that dramatize the plight of poor and neglected people from many different walks of life. And while politicians pay lip service to the epidemic, a brighter light needs to be shone on the serious hardships facing these communities that have seen the American Dream leave them behind and the drug dependency they are turning to in their desperation. Politicians pay lip service to the epidemic, but a greater light needs to be shone on their plight and movies can be a way to walk a mile in the shoes of another person. Hillybilly Elegy is not the pair of shoes that are going to get us anywhere meaningful though.
The story of Vance and his family is told through two parallel timelines, one when Vance is a young teen (portrayed by Owen Asztalos) and as a young man at Yale attempting to secure a summer internship (portrayed by Gabriel Basso) and the struggles of his family, particularly the struggles of his mom Bev (Amy Adams). In his teen years, his mom’s addiction begins and in his adult years, her addiction hits rock bottom. In his teen years, he also has his grandmother, Mamaw (Glenn Close) around trying to be the center for the family as things begin to spiral out of control for her daughter Bev and her grandson.
Again, there are moments in this film that hit with emotional heft and clarity. One particular scene involving Close and the young actor Asztalos late in the movie has seen JD throw an expensive gift out the window of a moving vehicle, prompting the grandmother to bring the car to screeching halt and ordering the teen to retrieve the item or to not come back to the car. In the ensuing heart to heart moment between the two, Mamaw essentially explains why she is invested in her grandson turning out better than the way he is headed is because someone is going to have to take care of the family when she is gone and he is the best shot at that. For all of its faults, the film emphasizes the importance of family and blood.
Moment like that, sadly, are few and far between. In that same scene, Mamaw explains that at some point Bev, who was salutatorian of her high school class, got “tore up around here… she just stopped trying.” Aside from the death of her father having an impact on her and one flashback to Bev’s childhood, we are not given much of anything to understand why she gave up. Instead, we just see the volatile relationship she has with her children, which borders on schizophrenic in how she jumps from loving and laughing to threatening and physical harm in the blink of an eye, even though it’s never implied that she has any mental health issues.
Howard, as a director, is not someone who is known for a particular style; you do not often look at a Ron Howard movie and say, “Ah, that’s a Ron Howard movie,” in the way you would a Christopher Nolan or the Coen brothers, for instance. He’s not an auteur; he’s more of a steady hand. This is not meant to damn with faint praise, it is why he can come on and salvage a movie like Solo: A Star Wars Story. Having said that, I’m not sure Howard was the right choice for this material. There is not much that stands out or resonates emotionally. It’s nondescript and cliché at times. If you’ve seen any movie where a successful person has to return home to deal with family problems they’ve tried to leave in the past, most of this movie will feel familiar to you.
As good as Close is in the car scene mentioned earlier, there are several scenes where she makes the same face over and over in a close up shot reacting to what is unfolding on screen in front of her. After seeing this face five or six times, I began to wonder if the movie had just used the same shot over and over in front of a green screen. At times, the movie slips into melodrama; a phone call between JD and his girlfriend Usha (Freida Pinto), where he finally confronts her with the fact that his mom overdosed on heroin, has him confronting her offer to help by saying, “Is that the kind of problem you want? I didn’t think so!”
“Oscar bait” is a term that gets thrown around a lot, especially at the end of the year, and it seems to be on full display here with Hillbilly Elegy. There are some moments that stand out for the film, but too much of it is reduced to uninspired melodrama, notes that feel all too familiar, and too much that borders on self-parody. Not having read the book, I got the impression that there is a good movie that could be pulled from the source material here, and one that could have widespread appeal and shine a light and provide an empathetic slice of life. Hillbilly Elegy is less elegy and more perfunctory, paint by numbers drama.
Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
(Hillbilly Elegy is currently streaming on Netflix.)