“C’mon C’mon” - Film Review
C’mon C’mon isn’t an easy movie to classify. It doesn’t fit in a simple genre. It’s the kind of movie that reaches into your chest and builds a home there; a one-in-a-million movie that makes you acutely aware of being alive. You can feel the warmth of the blood in your veins and the ache of the bones in your body. You are present and you are witnessing magic.
C’mon C’mon begins with documentarian Johnny (Joaquin Phoenix) working on his latest project: interviewing kids in different cities about what they think about their lives and the future. After a long day, he’s alone in his hotel room and makes a phone call. It’s the one-year anniversary of the death of his mother, so he calls his sister Viv (Gaby Hoffmann). The two had a shaky relationship even before they lost their mom, but when Viv mentions that her husband is going through a manic episode and she needs someone to watch their son, Jesse (Woody Norman), Johnny immediately offers his help. This phone call is the first real conversation they’ve had in a long time, but there’s still love there.
At first, Johnny and Jesse don’t know what to make of each other. They’re both a little awkward and unsure. Johnny wonders what he agreed to and Jesse tries to figure out what’s going on with his parents. Slowly, the walls begin to fall and they form a bond that takes both of them by surprise. Johnny plays along with Jesse’s stories and listens to his rambling, almost incoherent kid tangents. Once he truly connects with Jesse, Johnny throws himself wholeheartedly into being a stand-in parent. He tells stories at bathtime, shares his hobbies, and pretend-wrestles WWE-style. It’s lovely the way we make fools of ourselves for the people we care about.
Jesse and Johnny make their way through Los Angeles, New York, and New Orleans collecting sounds on Johnny’s documentary recording equipment. It begins as Johnny’s attempt to give Jesse something to do, because he fundamentally does not understand how to interact with kids. But as the movie continues, it becomes an earnest attempt to document the places they’ve been together. Remembering, or not remembering, is scary. We have no say in the memories that stay and the ones that fade. In addition to the sounds they collect, Johnny makes a record of what he’s experiencing. The things about Jesse he doesn’t understand, the mistakes he makes, and the good days they have. He’s making this for the two of them, not just himself. By putting this amount of attention and effort into documenting their story, Johnny is showing Jesse that the relationship they have is important. It’s a way of expressing love.
What makes C’mon C’mon so endearing is that it lacks ego and arrogance. First, in how writer/director Mike Mills fills the movie with excerpts from books and articles read in voiceover by Johnny. Books like Star Child and The Wizard of Oz. Mills is sharing the space of his movie with pieces of art that meant something to him. He gives them the space to shine, understanding that we are all the sum of things that matter to us and shape us. All of us have people and movies and music and friends and art whose absence would change us irrevocably.
Secondly, in the characters. At one point, Johnny calls Viv, frustrated and scared because he has no idea how to take care of her son. This is the longest he’s ever been around a kid. He’s worried that he screwed something up and Viv tells him, “Nobody knows what they’re doing with their kids. You just have to keep doing it.” This leads to Johnny reading an online article about how to talk to a kid. It’s simple and earnest and, in a lesser movie, would be a punchline. He has no clue what he’s doing, and the audience should find that amusing. But it’s not a punchline, it’s a genuine attempt to understand another person. That’s beautiful. What could the world be if that was how people treated someone they didn’t understand?
So much time is spent giving agency and ownness to children, to making sure their voices are heard and taken seriously. In one scene, Johnny tries to explain how Jesse is feeling and Jesse says, “My feelings are inside of me. You don’t know what they are.” Viv has raised Jesse with an appreciation and understanding of his emotions. Even so, he sees that his parents are going through something he doesn’t fully understand. (The audience knows that Viv’s husband is experiencing a manic episode due to his bipolar disorder, but Jesse does not.) He sees them struggling and he tries to be brave at the expense of his emotions.
So often, little boys are told they’re too strong to cry and to keep their emotions inside; that talking openly about emotions is a weakness. Not in this movie. C’mon C’mon spends a significant portion of the runtime advocating for everyone to talk honestly about how they’re feeling. Especially Jesse. To give space for people to experience the whole range of their emotions and know that it won’t take away their strength. In giving Jesse’s feelings the respect they deserve, Johnny learns to give that same respect to his own. He’s able to talk to Viv about why their relationship splintered and lay the groundwork for the two of them to reconcile.
C’mon C’mon is a celebration of the preciousness of life. It shows the frustration and beauty of sharing this world and this one life with other people. They ruin your sleep, they scare you, they make things complicated, but they also make you laugh, teach you new things, and show you the depth of love. These relationships are fragile, and they can fracture, sometimes permanently if we’re not careful. But life is about trying. Trying to repair the fractures or trying to start anew. It’s futile and wonderful and aching and what makes us human.
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