Growing up in post-World War II era Arizona, young Sammy Fabelman aspires to become a filmmaker as he reaches adolescence but soon discovers a shattering family secret and explores how the power of films can help him see the truth.
“Brilliant” was the first word I used to describe this film. Later, discussing it with my companion on the way home, I added “Stunning” or maybe “Brilliantly Stunning.” Or words to that effect. There simply aren’t enough to capture all the nuances this film strung together to make it great. I would put it up there with “ET.” It is funny. It is poignant. It makes one angry, and it makes one very sad. The shifts are subtle and smooth. It was never “long” to me, as many films today are. Length, of course, has nothing to do with it. Scenes are long when they don’t engage the audience. I was involved from start to finish. I hung on to every word.
The actors in “The Fabelmans” are also brilliant. Gabriel LaBelle is charming, naive, and angry as Sammy, the Fableman’s son, who is utterly obsessed with movies and making those movies himself. LaBelle explores with adept facility through the many faces of Sammy, who is embarrassed to be the only Jewish student at his high school but unwilling to bow down to the racist bullies who terrorize him. His father fails to grasp his passion for film, dismissing it as his “hobby,” to which he always responds, “It’s not a HOBBY!”
Michelle Williams plays Sammy’s artistic, somewhat flighty mother, Mitzi, who gave up a possible career as a concert pianist to marry and be a mom to four children. Williams plays the role with humor and determination, but in the end, with sadness. She gives Mitzi the assignation of “manic depressive,” as bipolar personality was referred to in the time setting of the fifties, simply through her emotional performance.
Seth Rogen pops up unexpectedly in the role of Benny, the “best friend” and workplace companion of Burt Fableman, patriarch of the Fableman clan. Rogen begins as an affable friend whose boundaries are too permeable. When Burt seeks to move his family to another state and a higher-paying job, Mitzi pleads through tears for her husband to get Benny a job so he can go with them (did anyone find this, oh, odd? No, not at the time. Missed foreshadowing). As always, Benny (and Mitzi) win out. Rogen’s affability slowly descends into almost garishness when the family, moving yet again, says a final goodbye to him. Rogen is a master at the slap on the back, never letting you get a word in; he is an inept, one-dimensional man.
Paul Dano is perfect as Burt Fabelman. He is the embodiment of the cartoon husband of the fifties: self-absorbed, work-obsessed, success-driven, expecting his family to reflect him and his interests. Dano can soften that image with Burt’s evident love and appreciation of his wife, her artistic talent, and his children, especially Sammy. The family observes the traditional Jewish holidays, being the only family in the neighborhood that doesn’t put up outdoor Christmas lights. Dano possesses the blandest, almost moon-like face and uses that look to his advantage. Emotions play softly and sometimes virtually undetectable there for Dano.
Judd Hirsch makes a very brief appearance as Uncle Boris, the kind of old man who scared all the children whenever he appeared. He does POP up. He pops up so he can deliver a message to Sammy regarding his films which Mom wants him to continue, and dad wants him to give up and get ready for the world of work, which is all dad knows. Uncle Boris’s message is decisively on Mom’s side but delivered by Hirsch like an old actor, with a dramatic flourish. Hirsch is excellent in the role and is welcomed back by audiences who have missed his performances.
This film has been described as Steven Spielberg’s account of his own life. However, it isn’t, by Spielberg’s own comments, not a historically correct account, but rather a history of memories turned into a story. The story becomes the fable of a young boy who wants to make movies and how that happened. Timelines are ignored. Characters don’t age after a certain point, no matter how much time has elapsed. If you begin tallying up, well, it started in 1952, and now it should be the late 1960s, you’ll miss the point. Sammy Fableman’s most impressionable memories occur in and around the fifties, and that’s how he sees it looking back: 50s clothing, cars, music, and culture are woven into it all. Little Sammy’s eyes are bright blue. Bigger Sammy’s are brown, the point being, “who cares” – don’t get caught up in the details. And what’s with Sammy’s great-uncle Boris? Only one brief encounter. Really? Or only one memorable encounter because of the personal advice he delivered so dramatically? Then there’s the family name: the FABLE man. Hmmm.
All of the ins and outs of the Fablemans weave together a great film. I wouldn’t hesitate to see it again. Discussing it afterward, there was just so much to remember and revisit over and over. It’s funny and sad. It’s touching. It warmed my heart. It’s a story about family at a time when families traditionally will gather together to celebrate with tradition. That is a part of our fable. Bottom line: don’t miss this. Skip the forty-dollar popcorn and 20-dollar drinks and go and enjoy. And think of your own memories, the fable of your life. I certainly did.
Now available on Digital HD and on 4K Ultra HD™, Blu-ray™, and DVD February 14th
