Many of us are intimately familiar with the expression "Fact is scarier than fiction." By that same token, though, I'm sure many of us would also argue that intimate, everyday stories are sometimes just as, if not more, powerful and explosive than out-of-this-world ones with actual explosions (such as James Cameron's Avatar or Michael Bay's Transformers, just to name a few)
Such is the case with "Win-Win,"a new 2011 recession-anxiety drama/comedy by director Thomas McCarthy ("The Visitor," "The Station Agent"). In this film Paul Giamatti ("Sideways," "John Adams" series) plays Mike Flaherty, a quintessential American hero who becomes the extemporaneous guardian of a standoffish teenager who's also a star wrestler. Of course, in labeling Paul Giamatti's character a "hero," it is important to stress that he's a flawed hero, and like every well-constructed story we've ever seen, read, or heard (from Homer's Odyssey to David Fincher's The Social Network), that is the type of hero we usually root for. Some may even argue that the feature of fallibility (and maintaining strength, courage, and humility in the face of it) is what ultimately defines a hero.
Mike Flaherty, a New Jersey private lawyer with a wife, Jackie Flaherty (Amy Ryan of "Capote" and "Dan In Real Life") and two little girls, Abbey and Stella Flaherty (played by Clare Foley and Penelope Kindred, respectively), is a simple man. Yet, like all of us, he has his share of daily, run-of-the-mill encumbrances: his legal practice is struggling, the tree is in his front yard needs to be cut down, the broken boiler and toilet at his workplace need fixing, and, of course, he has to put food on his family's table (not to mention, Mike also has anxiety attacks when he jogs in the morning). In court one day, Mike decides to take custody of Leo Poplar (Burt Young of "Rocky" and "Once Upon A Time In America"), an dementia-ridden, elderly man. Although Leo wants to live in his own home, Mike, who's been given $1,500 every month to assist him, resorts to chicanery and places the old man in an apartment in a retirement community. Things for Mike, who also moonlights as a wrestling coach at a nearby high school, get complicated, though, when Leo's cagey, 16-year-old grandson, Kyle Timons (Alex Shaffer), a runaway from Ohio who has a strained relationship with his drug-addicted mother (currently attending rehab), shows up on the front steps of his grandfather's house.
The film benefits from many different aspects: the superb acting of Giamatti and Shaffer, as well as, to a certain extent, Bobby Cannavale, the comic relief who plays Mike's brother-in-law, Terry Delfino, a colorful and nostalgic, exuberant ex-wrestler who still relishes in his (athletic) glory days (which we can all jocularly assume were not terribly glorious), Amy Ryan, and Melanie Lynskey, who plays Kyle's mother, Cindy, the moments of unforced humor, and the broader question that permeates the film and hopefully festers in the minds of viewers long after they exit the theater: what is the effect of an economy (or more concretely-- money and finances) on ethical (or unethical) human behavior? Do we resort to thievery, dishonesty, or trickery because we fiendishly enjoy it? Or do we act in such a way because we are (or feel) deprived and desperate? And if so, what are we deprived of or desperate for? Food? Shelter? Material amenities? Or do we simply want a sense of comfort, security, and control? This question of morality, human behavior, and what drives us to commit one deed over another has intrigued and baffled thinkers throughout the ages: Aristotle discussed it in Ancient Athens, English philosophers John Locke and Thomas Hobbes addressed the issue in their respective 17th century works on government and society-- Two Treatises On Government and Leviathan, and even Jean Valjean, the main character in 19th century French novelist Victor Hugo's Les Miserables, a paradigmatic story of urban poverty and despair, contributed to the field of ethical thought when he famously inquired whether or not it was just to "steal a loaf of bread to feed a starving family."
"Win-Win" certainly gives us as viewers the impression that Mike, in several ways, is that type of sympathetic human being whose intentions are good but whose actions are weak, and the opening scene without a doubt exemplifies that. The middle-aged, somewhat out-of-shape Mike, slowly footslogging his way through the woods on an early morning run, watches as two younger runners in the prime of their lives briskly sprint past him. Although Mike's back is to us, when he slows down, we immediately understand what he's thinking about and feeling: deflated, frustrated, and befuddled, Mike wonders whether or not the fortunate, prosperous days of his youth are behind him and he is confronted with two paths ahead of him. This type of personal angst is further articulated in a subsequent scene in which Mike, jogging along his routine path with Terry, experiences chest pains and temporarily collapses. After a moment of playfully subtle homo-erotic humor, the film resumes seriousness as Mike angrily exclaims that it is unfair that his legal practice is failing, while the practice of another competitor solely driven by money is flourishing. Moreover, Mike, like any ordinary individual we can identify with, is self-conscious about his financial woes and wants to shelter his wife and kids from knowing about them.
The film also forthrightly, yet at the same time, softheartedly broaches the difficult and uncomfortable issues of today--particularly, the current economic recession. On an implicit and proverbial scale, the film addresses the anger, anxiety, and frustration that the 2008 U.S. recession caused many by exploring the nature of sports and athletics (in particular high school wrestling). In one scene, Mike, exacerbated by his team's inability to cut their losing streak in the bud and represent their school as "The Home of the Champions," storms out of practice in spontaneous fit of frustration. When he brings Kyle to practice and witnesses his uncanny ability to gracefully and confidently crush any competitor, he turns his head and his eyes widen in pleasant shock... the type of shock one would typically identify as amazement or awe. Who is this kid and where did he learn to compete like that? Every one of us, whether we view this film as narrowly representing the current American economy and the spirit of the times associated with it or broadly representing human life itself, tends to admire the prestigious, gifted, and sometimes larger-than-life figures who nonchalantly regard the incredible physical or intellectual strength(s) they're given (Achilles, Mozart, Zorro, and Dr. Gregory House, to name a few), and Kyle is a perfect instantiation of one of those figures. When Mike asks Kyle how he pulls off his astonishing feats each and every match, Kyle replies that he pretends he is being held under water and he won't give up until his head is above it and he's breathing again. A simple, yet extraordinarily profound and compelling moment of insight that not only delves into the nature of economy, but also human life (or any conscious, breathing form of life) and existence itself, this scene illustrates why anyone should put "Win-Win" on their list of "movies to see." Not that I don't appreciate the following types of films for what they're worth, but "Win-Win" is a story without car chases, billion-dollar CG effects, or fiery explosions, and yet it packs as much punch as any of them combined and wins over its audience in doing so.
Well-written, well-acted, and deeply resonant, I give this film a 9/10.
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