What does it mean to be “here”? Ah, that deceptively simple word. A mere four letters, yet it encapsulates a universe of meaning: existence, belonging, a specific moment in time and space. When we rarely ponder over it, we overlook its profound implications. But in Robert Zemeckis’s latest cinematic endeavor, Here, that deceptively mundane concept unfurls into a gripping narrative, revealing life’s myriad stories from one singular vantage point… right here.
Here is not just a linear tale; rather, it grooves through the tapestry of time, focusing on the Young family while deftly interweaving episodes from epochs past, present, and future. Imagine, if you will, watching a world metamorphose—from the thunderous footfalls of dinosaurs, over the swath of ice ages, to the burgeoning settlements of humanity itself. Each vignette flits through history, like a deck of cards tossed into the air by a dealer who, rather than surveying the entire casino, offers the audience a tantalizing, yet fixed, glimpse into a singular slice of existence.
Our protagonists, Al (a disarming Paul Bettany from Avengers: Infinity War) and Rose (the indomitable Kelly Reilly of Sherlock Holmes fame), find themselves in a quaint home just outside Philadelphia post-war, peering out into the memories encapsulated by the old plantation house across the street, once home to the enigmatic William Franklin (Daniel Betts, War Machine). Ah, but this plot of land bears its own spectral history—rumor has it, it once served as an Indian Burial ground. The Young family’s predecessors—a couple and their daughter from the 1800s, and later, the inventor of the Lazy Boy recliner—etched their stories into the soil long before the Youngs arrived.
As Al and Rose nurture their three children within the home’s embrace, the narrative swells with milestones: enduring love, tragic illness, and the bittersweet sting of mortality. The walls have borne witness to a plethora of human experiences—dreams fulfilled, aspirations dashed. For over a century, this space has weathered life’s storms, its foundation resting on the pulse of the wilderness that preceded civilization, marked by the presence of wildlife and indigenous peoples.
Zemeckis adeptly adapts a graphic novel into cinematic form, forging connections between disparate lives through dynamic comic-book-style panels. While visually intriguing, this technique can be a double-edged sword; it sometimes leaves the viewer grappling with where to focus amidst the cacophony of sound, as background noises meld into a distracting symphony. The special effects of character aging, both young and old, shine, yet the technology retains an air of imperfection.
Ultimately, Here asks us to reflect on our own lives, probing our choices and the relationships that anchor us within the humdrum of daily existence. That reflection, however, casts a somber shadow, stirring feelings of melancholy and introspection. Aimed squarely at an older audience, it resonates deeply, forging a connection that compels viewers to reassess their own journey—echoing back to the question: what has brought you to your here?
Though the film is brimming with intriguing concepts and commendable performances, it’s hard to shake the heavy heart it leaves behind as the credits roll.
Grade: C-
