The Book of Henry, 2017.
Directed by Colin Trevorrow.
Starring Naomi Watts, Jaeden Lieberher, Jacob Tremblay, Sarah Silverman, Lee Pace and Dean Norris.
SYNOPSIS:
With two sons to look after, money is tight for single mom Susan (Naomi Watts), especially as the older one, Henry (Jaeden Lieberher) is a child prodigy. But he’s also the de facto man of the house, looking after the accounts and keeping her head above water. Then he notices that things aren’t all they should be in the house next door, where the local police chief lives with his teenage daughter, so he concocts a plan to rescue the girl. One that Susan has to put into action for him.
Once upon a time there was a director called Colin Trevorrow. His first movie hit was only two years ago and it was Jurassic World. He signed up to direct Star Wars IX and to write the Jurassic World sequel. The future was so bright, he needed those proverbial shades. But somewhere along the line, he took on another project. It was called The Book of Henry.
In case you hadn’t realised it, June is unofficially Gifted Children Month. We were introduced to maths prodigy Mary last week in Gifted. Now we meet eleven year old Henry, whose vocabulary is more extensive than somebody at least twice his age, who loves playing around with inventions and, of course, is pretty darn good at maths as well. Sometimes you can have too much of a good thing.
But he is the least of the film’s worries. Even a quick synopsis demonstrates that the story lurches from a wholesome family drama to something darker, more sinister and decidedly ill-judged. There’s a moment when The Prince of Cuteness, Jacob Tremblay, is fixing breakfast and smothers his waffles with a deluge of syrup. It’s as if Trevorrow has done that to the first half of the film, following it with a tasteless and manipulative story about child abuse. An utterly mismatched mish-mash.
The two storylines are sandwiched together with cinematic cement. It’s established that Henry is a nice enough kid, super-bright and with a penchant for Heath Robinson inventions. And then it all goes a bit Rear Window, but without the essential touch of Hitchcock. The boy looks out of his bedroom window and sees what he thinks is evidence of Christina (Maddie Ziegler) next door being abused by her dad, Glenn (Dean Norris). But he also happens to be the chief of police, so Henry’s attempts to report it fall on deaf ears.
This is where the titular book comes in, because Henry writes down everything he’s seen in a notebook, together with that plan to help the girl. Instructions for that also come on tape, which are less than comfortable to hear. And it’s at this point that the film doesn’t so much lurch into the dark side, but hurtles off a cliff. It’s implausible to the point of ridiculous and such a volt face from the first part of the film that Trevorrow doesn’t stand the chances of a moggy in a furnace when it comes to convincing us of what’s going on.
The actors don’t stand much of a chance either. Naomi Watts looks increasingly desperate as things go on, while all that’s asked of Tremblay is that he carries on looking cute and cries a lot and Dean Norris phones in his customary brooding turn, spending most of his time in the shadows. It’s easier than acting – and when you’ve got a script like this, it’s not a bad idea.
The film doesn’t move, doesn’t excite or provide any tension. It doesn’t really do anything – except perhaps make you nod off. And it doesn’t bode well for Trevorrow’s Star Wars effort…..
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ / Movie: ★
Freda Cooper. Follow me on Twitter, check out my movie blog and listen to my podcast, Talking Pictures.
