Wakefield
Studio: Shout! Factory
Aug 01, 2017 Web Exclusive
Everyone wants to live outside the responsibilities of life sometimes. At least that’s the premise behind Wakefield, a film that finds Bryan Cranston doing just that. The idea is certainly an intriguing one, but it’s plagued by poor delivery, especially with a screenplay doing its level best to completely ignore the show, don’t tell rule.
Based on an E.L. Doctorow short story that captured the attention of writer/director Robin Swicord years ago, the story finds high-flying NYC lawyer Howard Wakefield (Cranston) returning home from work late one night after a power outage on his suburban commuter line. Instead of going straight in to eat the meal his wife Diana (Jennifer Garner) has prepared for Howard and their two teenage girls, he heads into the separate garage. Observing the family from a distance, on a whim he decides to stay there. Thus, begins an odd and depressing escape from life as he simply disappears from his loved ones, living the life of a scavenger all the while observing them only meters from the house.
The sight of Howard finding himself, losing himself, or at least reveling in his new animal life, could have made for an interesting character study. Instead, the screenplay forces a tedious voiceover on him, leaving the guy to narrate everything from minor actions to conversations and intimate thoughts. Cranston doesn’t even have much to do as a performer. He rarely has to convince because that ever-present voiceover jumps in to explain away everything. This reaches a particular nadir near the end when someone comes to dinner with Diana, and Howard dashes around trying to see who it is. When the man is finally bathed in cellphone light, he still has to say the name out loud. While that’s a low, it’s like it all the way through.
No one else is given much to do either. Garner gets to walk around in the distance looking either concerned or happy depending on which part of Howard’s absence the film is at. The kids are irrelevant because Howard seems not to care for them in the slightest, though to Swicord’s credit, she avoids trying to tack on redeeming features to a character who is clearly an asshole.
However, when Wakefield couples such an unrelentingly unpleasant man with boringly obvious narration, it makes it hard to care about his bizarre plight, or the few slivers of self-discovery he does achieve while watching from the shadows.
Mix in a score that aims straight for the middle road, tinkling around blithely in the lighter moments while straining to create any kind of atmosphere the rest of the time, and all that’s left is a strangely shaped misfire. Whatever potential Wakefield came with doesn’t last long before it’s disappeared into its own poorly insulated garage.
Author rating: 4/10
Average reader rating: 5/10
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