If we remove the definite article, we get a more appropriate title: “At the Sea.” Behind this tedious, arduous recovery is a strange amount of major league talent. It’s the second English-language feature from Hungarian master director Cornel Mundruczó, and on paper it promises to be a strong female character study like his first. 2020’s Pieces of a Woman, a harrowing but humane study of the trauma of stillbirth, gave Vanessa Kirby the role of a lifetime, and for which she was duly nominated for an Oscar. Just watch this movie and you’ll understand why the A-list actress agrees to meet with Mundruzo. And that’s why Amy Adams headlines this story of a wealthy mother, wife, and artist struggling to regain control of her life after six months in rehab for alcoholism.
For more than two decades, Adams has been one of Hollywood’s most reliably dedicated and conscientious actors. That reputation remains intact in “At the Sea,” which she approaches with more seriousness and trembling vulnerability than the flimsy screenplay by Mundruzo’s personal and professional partner Kata Weber. However, the character she plays, Laura Baum, is unable to discover or conjure up much of the inner meaning. Laura Baum is a celebrated dancer and choreographer whose addiction has estranged her from both her family and her artistry, but the film prefers to articulate that turmoil through thudding dialogue and subtly slanted flashbacks rather than further probing physical studies. Shot in mid-2024, the film has the feel of being chopped and altered many times to its final unwieldy form, and will premiere in competition at this year’s Berlinale.
Familiar faces like Dan Levy, Brett Goldstein and Jenny Slate join the ensemble, and Adams’ presence here may be enough to secure interest in “At the Sea” from indie distributors and streaming platforms. But it’s hard to imagine that a movie this intimate and emotionally moving would draw such a large audience. Even “Night Bitch,” which was barely seen on Adams’ last resort Searchlight and Hulu releases, had a more compelling commercial hook. (This general title is unhelpful, given that in recent years we have also seen “By the Sea” and “On the Sea”; we may lack the new prepositions needed for this particular expression.)
The ocean in question whispers across Cape Cod, photographed in beige colors by Yorick Le Saux. Laura and her husband Martin (Murray Bartlett), a painter, own a vast and richly decorated summer house inherited from their late father Ivan. He is a famous choreographer who founded and currently serves as director of a world-renowned dance company. Or so she did, until a drunken car accident with her young son Felix (Redding L. Mansell) in the car led to her considering a drinking problem and spending six months in a remote recovery facility. So Martin and his teenage daughter Josie (Chloe East) are left to hold the fort in her absence, but her colleagues and board members are given vague explanations for her sudden hiatus.
Laura’s later-than-promised return leaves Josie understandably upset and Felix (disturbed but unharmed by the accident) nervously aloof, while the rifts in their marriage that were already present when she left only widen. Although this nervous, walking-on-eggshell family environment has dramatic promise, “At the Sea” is frequently interrupted by less interesting tensions in Laura’s social and professional life. Her foolish chief investor George (Rainn Wilson) threatens to withdraw the funds, her nervous assistant Peter (Levy) is desperate to get Laura back to work, and her best friend, George’s ex-wife Debbie (Slate, flimsy and wasted), is there. Part), got her life back after beating cancer.
At best, this is the stuff of prime-time melodrama, written and performed with a broad, banal range that’s a world apart from the intense, battered disorientation that Adams brings to her character. Alcoholism itself is not a rich man’s problem, even if a luxurious six-month rehab is a rich man’s solution. There’s a lot to sympathize with in Laura’s plight and Adams’ reclusive performance.
But while “At the Sea” struggles to make us care about the future of her dance company or the possible sale of her enviable beach house, the story’s backstory remains The more high-stakes snippets of the film, particularly the parts about her supposedly abusive relationship with her father, are shown only in brief, sharp flashes to the past, and rely heavily on the solemn expressions of agony from Laura’s childhood (played silently by the director himself). daughter).
These flashbacks, which editors David Janso and Ilka Janka Nagy stitch together in the transcripts with sometimes winking brevity, seem to hint at the intrusive thoughts and lapses of consciousness of a confused and recovering mind. As such, they are one of the few striking formal devices in Mundruzo’s surprisingly ordinary work, a far cry from the dynamic style of “White God” or the breathtakingly oppressive atmosphere of “Piece of a Woman.” On the other hand, the most poetic flourish here is fantasy. A visceral, interpretive mother-daughter dance sequence on the beach causes more cringe than catharsis. At one point, Slate’s character makes a bizarre toast “to temporary beauty and new starts.” Mundruzo has created lasting beauty in her career, so there’s no need to settle for something temporary, but a fresh start would be a good idea.
