In the Bedroom

Current theatrical release

Chris Dahlen

First of all, Maine doesn't look like that.

I live across the state line in New Hampshire—which granted is no picnic either—so I know. For three months out of the year the wealthy town of Camden, Maine, where In the Bedroom was filmed, looks this pretty: the old houses, the ritzy boutiques, the soft light on the family barbeque. And there are lobsters everywhere. The title comes from a lobstering term, and in one scene, the movie even lays out the key themes in terms of lobsters.

But In the Bedroom only hints at the dark side of Maine, which comes out at the end of the tourist season, when the New Yorkers go home and the economy all but stops. And that's just the coast: in-land Maine suffers year round. In the Bedroom may be the best film ever made in Maine, but Stephen King's works are definitely the most accurate: small towns of people huddled together against the cold and horror outside.

It's the happy, "ocean playground" view of Maine that's winning over so many audiences. That, and the gut-wrenchingly depressing story. In the Bedroom is undeniably powerful and well-made, but those qualities don't quite overcome some awkward moments and strange decisions. Some people have described the story as TV movie-like: I would say that it's actually two TV movies spliced together, with a terrific art movie lurking underneath.

It's our policy not to give away too much about a movie, but it's hard to discuss this one without ruining the first half hour. The Fowlers (Sissy Spacek and Tom Wilkinson) live in Camden with their only son, Frank (Nick Stahl). Frank goes to school somewhere out of town, but he's home for the summer and making whoopie with an older woman, Natalie Strout (Marisa Tomei). Natalie has two children—which in Maine means she's at least seventeen—and she also has a husband, Richard (William Mapother), who moved out but wants her back. When the husband and Tomei's boy toy start fighting, hilarity ensues. The husband kills Frank and kicks off the main part of the film: Spacek and Wilkinson become the lead characters, and we watch as they're consumed by grief, frustration and anger.

The first part of the film seems clumsy. Most of the action between Stahl, Tomei and Mathoper happens off-screen, which seems like a cheat until we realize that they aren't the focus. Likewise, the exposition sometimes falters: I wanted to know how far along in school Stahl is—college? Grad school? What are those interviews he keeps bringing up? It's important if we care about whether he'll stay together with Tomei—though ultimately he might as well have been an astronaut. He does a decent job with a small part, however, and Tomei and Mathoper are also very good: many people will say this is Tomei's best role, because nobody saw her in Happy Accidents. It should be noted, though, that making them talk with r-dropping Maine accents was a mistake: when they start shouting they sound like angry retarded people.

The stand-out performers, however, are Wilkinson and Spacek. They make their characters fascinating—Wilkinson passive, willing to put up with almost anything, and harboring frustrations that he barely gives up; Spacek quietly overbearing and bitter, grief-stricken but seething. It's ridiculous that more people over forty aren't cast in movies (aside from America's new grandma, Judi Dench). These two remind us how much nuance and gravity a mature actor can bring to a role.

The film's only weakness is that under the grief lies a complicated psychological drama, and it's only fully revealed at the end. The last couple of scenes subtly question everything that's happened. After empathizing with the characters through such a grueling film, we're told to view them intellectually and suspiciously. You can start to piece together details of their behavior and figure out what they're about—but who wants to do the work when the movie's already over? For one example, they have a terrific fight scene that takes place a couple months after their son's death. Wilkinson and Spacek let fly with every awful thing they can say about each other, and we can read it either as an accurate display of marital crisis, or as the key to all of the scary undercurrents that move their characters. These are both strong stories but they don't always come together.

Of course, Field still leaves most recent movies in the dust by putting so much great stuff in this film. This is an amazing directorial debut that makes a compelling movie out of an unremittingly grim story. I felt like a jerk for being the only guy in the theater who wasn't knocked over, but I spent the whole drive back to New Hampshire poring over every detail I could remember. In fact, it's too bad that the movie isn't playing any closer than Boston. This is the kind of movie they should be watching in Maine.

Related resources

The official site has some interesting information, and clips of the actors discussing the film.