You Can Count on Me (2000)

Kenneth Lonergan's debut film, above all things, attempts to reconcile with the fact that a brother and sister can grow up together but lead two completely different lives, and that there is ultimately little they can do to understand the other. The opening scene depicts their parents' death at a young age, and from there you can extrapolate how the rest of their childhood went; who sprung into action to take over as the stand-in adult, and who moped and drifted off into a winding trial of odd jobs and couches. Linney was born for this role. You could scarcely imagine her as a kid; she must have left the womb in a pencil skirt and wagging a stern finger. Her excitement for Terry's visit doubles as an extension of her pride in her own competence. It's her fault if she can't provide for him, never mind the fact that he is a full grown man. In their first reconciliation in the cafe, and in their subsequent spars which recall all the fights they had in the family home, Lonergan shows a knack for writing dialogue that ducks and weaves around the point, always concealing underhanded blows and accusations amongst the awkward pauses. Sammy's way of life is an affront to Terry's decisions, an unspoken condemnation in her every move. I've seen this film a dozen times before, we all have. Usually it's pitched at the romantic comedy level, where the rough, rogue drifter returns to town and slowly but surely wins the heart of the poor widow. Oh, there'll be tricks and misunderstandings, the classic one set up here where the drifter is set a simple task (such as picking up a kid from school) and everything that could go wrong does. You expect Linney to be given an opportunity to explode her, and god knows she's been looking for one. What we get instead is a quiet moment of bonding. Rudy Junior is nailing the planks on diagonally but Terry doesn't even scold him for it, just advises him on hammering technique. Elsewhere, you watch how their relationship evolves into one of co-dependency, Rudy finally finding the father figure he never had, and Terry spending time with someone that doesn't take one look at his second-rate clothes and scraggly beard and write him off. Watch the ease in which Lonergan slips exposition in the tentative initial moments, not as story dumping, but as one of the ways in which the pair try to figure out what they mean to one another. Sammy, on the other hand, begins to have her modest yet efficient life unravel. Linney's eyes do most of the work, widening in panic whenever out of the ordinary threatens the idyll of Scottsville, New York. She dates Bob, a man so plain and unremarkable that by the end of the film we still know nothing of his character (even his name is boring). Sammy indulges in her own little sins on the side, like a smoke every now and again, and a full blown affair with his uptight boss. Her confession of the latter to the local pastor speaks volumes of the way she perceives right and wrong; she'd rather be told that she's condemned to burning in hell than admit that every now and again people need a break, and that life can get a little messy. The reveal of Rudy Junior's red neck father is the final straw - all along we've been shifting uncomfortably at the Terry-sized intrusion into her life, but he's a saint in comparison to the man that Sammy fathered a child with and then promptly broke off. Lonergan himself plays the small town priest Ron, a decisive departure from many of the more conventional Catholic authority figures the screen has graced us with. He plays the role with not a single moment of emotional betrayal, a stony faced mask that functions as a disposal point for strangers to unload their woes and worries. In a monologue that encapsulates the film, he muses on his own personal philosophy of happiness and comfort (defined through the connectedness he finds by helping others find their happiness), and then offers a pointed question to Terry: do you think your life is important? Sammy is also sitting in attendance, and by the end of the film, both have scavenged their way to an answer, although their paths are vastly different. It's blunt, but effective. Few first time directors find that sort of impartiality, and Lonergan would smooth those rough edges (visually and didactically) more than a decade later.

A single mother (Laura Linney)'s life is thrown into turmoil after her struggling, rarely-seen younger brother (Mark Ruffalo) returns to town.This is a pretty simple story grounded by some solid acting. Mark Ruffalo never fails, and is one of the best actors working today. Sooner or later everyone will recognize him for the genius he is. Laura Linney, likewise, is incredible, and far bigger than she is generally given credit for. We also get Rory Culkin, and that is not a bad thing.Unfortunately, the casting of Matthew Broderick just kills this picture and drops it down a notch. Broderick works well in certain roles, but this is not one of them. He just comes off as too chipper, too nice and it does not line up well with the character he is portraying.

A prodigal brother returns to his small hometown and bonds with his nephew. Meanwhile, his sister is having trouble with her new boss.The uncle who drives us all crazy but it the centre of endless wonderful anecdotes. Every family has one, I'm sure. Mine decided to climb in our open window one night because he didn't want to wake the house. He fell through the Christmas tree and our dog attacked him, which woke the whole neighbourhood. Mark Ruffalo as uncle Terry is darkly manic, providing the man of the house role for nephew Rudy (a broody Rory Culkin) though without the necessary sense of boundaries. When Rudy sinks the winning ball in a pool game, you know it is a moment that will live with him forever. And also that he shouldn't be there in the first place.Sammy (an impressive Laura Linney) focuses on the latter while being painfully aware of the former. She tears into her brother while also being aware that she has her own difficult to exorcise demons. Her solution to asserting herself with a prickly new boss is to seduce him. She has a nice boyfriend, who gives her what she wants but without the violins and chills. But she is old enough to know you can't always have violins and chills, but young enough to grab them when the opportunity arises.The script authentically portrays a parade of small-town characters: the boss who is a socially limited jobsworth. The clergyman who is weary but morally centered. The estranged Dad. With every new character you find yourself thinking "I know someone like that." The tensions and exchanges between characters are realistic and resonate with our own experiences. And just like our own experiences, there are no pat solutions. Should Sammy marry Bob? Is Terry going to be OK? Is Rudy Snr really the biological father of Rudy Jnr? The film raises the questions, not to answer them, but to hold up a mirror to the minutiae of everyday life.This is a well-written, finely acted relationships drama that hits on a few home truths.

Well, I would like to say that i like ruffalo and everyone else in the movie except for laura linney... I do not like her. it might be just because i feel that she always plays the neurotic bitch, but she really off-puts me when it comes to movies. she never adds anything. She only subtracts from a movie for me, even though the academy likes her i think she is utterly useless. I feel that Ruffalo really gives a good performance. I am a fan of his, so that does not really say anything, but I would like to say that his performances are usually equally great, with drinking buddies and avengers as topping performances! Still, an utterly disappointing movie, except for Ruffalo!