User Reviews

It occurred to me while watching "Imaginary Heroes" that any screenwriter attempting to make a drama about family relationships should seriously consider killing off a kid or two in the opening reel as a way of getting his characters to open up and reveal themselves. There must be something to this storyline, for it seems as if every other family drama that comes down the pike uses this device in one form or another ("Paradise" and "Moonlight Mile" are just two of the more recent examples that spring immediately to mind, although one could reach back to a golden oldie like "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" to make the point as well). It's not that the death of a child is an illegitimate subject for serious films to explore. Far from it. It's just that, like any topic, it can be so overused that it becomes just another movie cliché, a convenient bit of narrative shorthand to get the ball rolling and to give the characters something to grapple with for the remainder of the time we get to spend with them.

The latest such work is "Imaginary Heroes," a film that borrows heavily from what is one of the earliest and, perhaps, best known examples of the "family coping with the death of a child" genre, the Academy Award winning "Ordinary People." Like the characters in that earlier film, the Travises seem, on the surface, to be the ideal suburban family, until, one fateful day, their oldest son, Matt, who is the "golden boy" athlete and, thus, the apple of his father's eye, kills himself with no explanation (one minor difference is that the son in "Ordinary People" dies as a result of an accident, not a suicide). It is Matt's younger brother, Tim, who winds up finding the body, and who assumes the role of protagonist in the film. Each of the remaining family members copes with the tragedy in his or her own way. Matt, who has always lived in the shadow of his older brother, becomes more and more estranged from the father who has virtually ignored him all his life and begins to turn to drugs for surcease. Ben, the father, becomes swallowed up in feelings of remorse and guilt, turning away from both his job and his family. His wife, Sandy, is the most complex character in the film, a free-spirited child of the '60's who feels oddly adrift in the role of mother and wife as she endures a basically loveless marriage in sterile suburbia. She spends most of her time after the tragedy trying to reconnect with her pot-smoking past.

As written and directed by Dan Harris, "Imaginary Heroes" emerges as a wildly uneven film. For every scene that feels real and authentic, there is another that comes across as arbitrary and inauthentic. One sometimes has the sense that Harris would like to cram every possible life situation he can think of into his screenplay, an admirable goal, perhaps, but one that makes the film unnecessarily melodramatic in the process. Instead of identifying with the characters and being caught up in their plight, we often find ourselves thinking, "Oh, come now…what next?" For teen suicide is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the hot-button topics covered in this film; the screenplay also touches on drug and alcohol abuse, physical abuse, sexual identity conflict, life-threatening illness, even inadvertent gay incest. It is this "everything but the kitchen sink" mentality in the writing that robs the movie of much of the credibility it needs to really make us care.

That is not to say that "Imaginary Heroes" is a bad or unrewarding film. Much of what it has to say about familial relationships and values in the 21st Century is insightful, original, pointed and profound. Prime credit for its success goes to the actors, Emile Hirsch, Sigourney Weaver and Jeff Daniels, who deliver incisive, sensitive performances in their respective roles. It is they who triumph over the narrative excesses to stimulate our brains and touch our hearts. Moreover, Harris, in his direction, achieves an effectively melancholic tone throughout, but one that is frequently augmented by some badly-needed flashes of daring dark comedy.

"Imaginary Heroes" may appear unfocused and derivative at times, but its fine performances and subtle mood shifts make it a film worth watching.

Saw this film when it was an entry in Santa Fe Film Festival. Heavy film! Depiction of a completely dysfunctional family taken to another level of the extreme, might have left me depressed to the extreme, had it not been for very funny sight gags and dialogue along the way which lightened the film's overall tone. The relatively "uplifting" ending gave hope for those affected by the initial tragedy. Still, I did not walk out of the theatre ready to go to a fun party. The film stayed with me for several days.

Brought back memories of "Ordinary People", but with humor mixed in with the tragedy. I thought the acting was excellent, especially by Sigourney Weaver and Emile Hirsh. How each character dealt with the tragedy was at times sad, self-defeating, but also at times hilarious. Clever dialogue, and situations.

Watching this film is often not a pleasant experience, but then it isn't meant to be. The main protagonist, Tim, seems very passive - a sort of 'everyman' character, pushed around by life - whereas I wanted to slap both his mother and his father more than once. However as the film went on it became obvious that everyone had a good reason for behaving the way they did; everyone was harbouring a secret, and sometimes more than one. I don't agree with the other commenters who felt the ending was too neat; there was at least one major plot-line unresolved - i.e., what happens to Tim's relationship with Kyle in the light of Tim's new knowledge about his father?

The whole Tim/Kyle dynamic was beautifully done. Their immaturity in dealing with their feelings for one another worked superbly in the context of their ages. It also informed the darker thread of Tim's relationship with Matt, and if there's a standout performance in the film for me it has to be Kip Pardue playing against type as the tortured older brother.

The only quibble I have is that I couldn't quite see why Sigourney Weaver and Jeff Daniels, as the parents, would ever have been attracted to one another in the first place. They were both excellent, but somehow just failed to convince me that they ever were or ever could have been a married couple.

It's an uncomfortable film, certainly not a compilation of familiar clichés, but it has a lot in common with "Monster's Ball" in the way it stays in the memory, provokes thought, and ultimately gives one hope even for the most dysfunctional of relationships.

As Salinger's "A Perfect Day for Bananafish" ends with the suicide of a prodigy, this movie opens with the death of the star high school swimmer legend, Matt, who shoots himself in the head with a revolver after in the opening scene. But the death of Matt Travis serves as a key to unlock the door of another prodigy, his brother, Tim who never in his life seriously bothered with the question, "What am I going to do?"

When he finds his brother dead, his head broken like a dropped watermelon, the Travis family starts vomiting out its secrets one by one. The film focuses on Tim. He is a victim of bullying, domestic abuse, family alienation, heartbreak, issues of sexuality and friendship.

Tim reveals his wounds by physical bruises, but these are not the only injuries to his person, as we slowly come to realize, as the script painfully unveils the origins and outcome of Tim scars. Everyone who loves him hurts him. Hirsch plays out the character quite well, revealing frame after frame in the visual expression of his body, a host of conflicting emotions inside the soul of a kid whom no one seems to listen to or know very well, unknowing and unaware of his depth of soul and prodigious talent.

Two siblings sharing a doobie, curled up on a red, spinnable playground saucer, Tim asks Penny, "What am I going to do with the rest of my life?" The scene is framed in a familiar, recurring image of the film: the comfortable playground where Tim obviously feels at home, filmed from a bird's eye view, because with every character Tim feels comfortable to share a part of himself, and we view these intimate moments he shares in the red, spinnable playground saucer, complete with childish graffiti carved in pencil, from above. After advising him curtly to pass the joint, Penny tells him, "Tim, well, the secret to the success of life is to find something you love. And you have to do that for the rest of your life … And you better hope to hell that you're good at it because if you're not then you'll probably fail." This simple line of advice from Penny serves as the movie's central theme, the responsibility of talent and the possibility of failure. Why does one person have a talent he cannot stand, like Matt, who hated the attention his swimming fame brought, but no one notices Tim's talent – no one – because no one bothers to ask him? Not even us. The film makes us aware that we ourselves do not know Tim as well as we thought we did when we first meet this handsome, sad, guy; in our intimate understanding of Tim, as it progresses, we are reminded that not everyone is as they seem to be. This is the other side of the film, the failure of those who should – parents, friends, teachers – whoever – to notice and see the gifts of the people they claim to love. Not even his mother Sandy, played by Sigourney Weaver, sees Tim's gift, despite her love for her son. Weaver does a deft job of a middle-aged woman grappling with her own inner demons as she haphazardly tries to play the roles of domesticity and support. When Tim is found to be bullied at school, she storms the boy's trailer, threatening his life, "You can tease, torture, punch, drive drunk with me, I can forgive you. Hell I can understand it, I'm a good Christian, you know, I can forgive and forget, but you mess with my kid and may God himself descend from heaven to protect you because as long as I live – and I will outlive you all – I will wake up and go to sleep at night just dreaming of ways to make your petty insignificant lives into hell on earth." After flicking a paper cup into the mother's face, she looks around the trailer, and looking at them both, the kid and his stunned mother, comments, "nice trailer" and leaves as quickly as she came. Weaver scores in her ability to match gusto with visceral wit that is acid and witty. And Tim's father, played by Jeff Daniels, is blind to who his son is, treating him like a stranger, not telling his family that he took time off from the office, spending his days in the city park, listless, a carved out soul, and sleeping in Matt's bed, tucked in with his high school letter jacket. Jeff Daniels does a superb job of making us believe that he can be both a bastard and lovable because, we grow to see that even an inept father can show his love for his son. In an emotional scene, Tim confronts his father. Just when you think his dad is going to hit him, he grabs for him to embrace him. Not letting him go, he tells Tim, "I am your father and you're are my son and I'm here okay but you've gotta talk to me. I don't know how to do this by myself". It is here at this moment in the film that a father tells his son, you have to tell me what's going on inside of you, you have to tell me who you are; I want to know who you are. It is in this scene that the film reaches a cathartic moment, the visual movement from Tim, angry and alone, to his father embracing him as he breaks downs and weeps, revealing the emotions hidden beneath his shell. Tim experiences this moment of cleansing with his dad as a catharsis, especially when you consider the mistreatment, manipulation, disregard, violence and betrayal he has been dealt in the long year the film encompasses. I recommend this film.

To have to wait all that time to find out who's clobbering Tim? And it went on and on with dreary people with dreary lives. If I had watched it alone I would not have made it through the first hour. Excellent acting of course from the actors, except (not as an actor but as character) Jeff Daniels was not believable in in change or when he was in the hospital with the wife. And then, boom, at the end, everything's tickety-boo and hunky dory. The things that went on in that family were too monumental to get off that easy. And nutty neighbors didn't add to the feeling. Just because there were no explosions or chases didn't make this into a very good film.