The journey tale is one of the oldest genres, stretching as far back as the story of Adam and Eve, who are cast out of the Garden of Eden into a wilderness where they must experience tests and trials during their quest to return home. Similarly, the Israelites wander back and forth between the worldliness of Egypt and Babylon and the promised land of Canaan for more than two thousand years as they learn and re-learn the path to happiness. Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha is another journey tale in which the main character leaves home, tries out the stoicism of the samanas, experiments with the worldliness of the city, and finally discovers peace when he returns to the river that represents his connectedness with humanity. Even Chevy Chase’s Vacation films are journey tales of self-discovery and family connection.
Wonderstruck (not to be confused with Wonder, another fine film about a young boy that opened this week) is a journey tale about two separate children in separate time periods lost in the wilderness of Manhattan, trying to find a place that will feel like home. Their journeys take them to many of the same places: Times Square, Kincaid’s bookshop, the American Museum of Natural History. But one is traveling in 1927, and the other in 1977. Wonderstruck isn’t a time travel tale in the usual sense of characters moving from one time period to another, but it is a tale of traveling across time.
As the film begins, 12-year-old Ben (Oakes Fegley) is in the throes of a nightmare, where wolves are chasing him through a wintry forest. His frightened moans awaken Robbie (Sawyer Nunes) in the bed across from him. A voice from another room calls out for them to go to sleep, and Robbie responds, “Good night, Mom.” Ben adds, “Good night, Aunt Jenny.” Just like that, we know that these two boys who share a room are not brothers. And we know that Ben has suffered a tremendous loss.
Soon the scene changes to 1927, and young Rose (Millicent Simmonds) is going to a movie. The film, called “Daughter of the Storm,” features a mother played by silent film star Lillian Mayhew (Julianne Moore) trudging through a blizzard with a babe in her arms, desperately trying to find shelter. The hands of the organist match the pathos on the screen, and Rose is transfixed by the story of unbearable love and loss. The film’s storyline alternates between Ben and Rose. Appropriately, all of the scenes that take place in 1927 are filmed in black and white, and they are silent but for the music that punctuates the actions. We learn later just how appropriate the director’s choice is.
Through a freak accident, Ben suffers another tremendous loss: He can still speak, but he can no longer hear. This makes his solo journey to New York particularly difficult (and dangerous). His attempt to understand the people he cannot hear becomes a metaphor throughout the film for the difficulty all the characters have in connecting with one another. As viewers, we often misinterpret what we think we are seeing on the screen as well, adding to our connectedness with the characters and our satisfaction in the “aha” moments.
The costumes and set dressing for the two time periods are outstanding. Times Square in the mid-seventies was a seedier place than it is today, full of Triple-X rated screening rooms and crazy, homeless people. The bright prints, bellbottoms, afros, bus stations, street signs and store windows are straight out of The French Connection. Rose’s scenes are equally authentic. We don’t feel as though we are watching modern actors so much as “found film” from anther era.
The display cases in the museum, once called “Cabinets of Wonder,” serve as a reminder of those things that never change, the objects and experiences that become landmarks along a journey through time. The story is deeply engaging as Rose and Ben, guided by news clippings and other artifacts each of them carries, and driven by a determination to find something they hadn’t known was lost, travel through New York in their different time periods. Much of the film takes place in the American Museum of Natural History, but this is no Night in the Museum a la Ben Stiller, Robin Williams and Owen Wilson.
I suppose the pun is inevitable in a review like this one: Watching Wonderstruck, I was often struck with wonder—wonder at the rich performances of these child actors, wonder at the careful attention to detail and editing of director Todd Haynes, wonder at the perfect scoring by Carter Burwell, and wonder at the way these stories finally connect. Like Siddhartha, the Israelites, and yes, even Chevy Chase, we come to understand the rich connectedness we have with others, and that our stories aren’t complete until we finally connect the dots.
Wonderstruck, directed by Todd Haynes. Amazon Studios, 2017, 116 minutes.
Jo Ann Skousen teaches English literature at Chapman University and is the founding director of the Anthem Film Festival, held at the Paris Resort in Las Vegas July 11-14, 2018. She can be reached at jskousen@anthemfilmfestival,com For more information, go to www.anthemfilmfestival.com
