#REVIEW: “HERE”

Review by Nicholas Porteous for Mr. Will Wong

Consider your home, and how many things have happened in that space over years and decades, with or without you. Robert Zemeckis takes that thought and stretches it a few steps further in nearly every possible direction with his time and generation-spanning mini-epic Here. It’s about a small patch of land, observed from a fixed angle, chronicled from the extinction of the dinosaurs up to the present day. It’s about civilizations, families, life, and–perhaps above all–death, and the unyielding nature of time. It’s a premise so vast and unwieldy, and paradoxically so limited by design that I felt compelled to see it if only to understand how the heck Zemeckis could make it work. Can one make a compelling movie out of a single, unmoving camera angle and all the time in the world? Maybe, but Here isn’t that movie.

Zemeckis, who brought us Forrest Gump, Back to the Future, and Contact is no stranger to large-scale cinema that plays with time, but representing all of human history in less than two hours is a tall order for even the most seasoned time traveler. That’s why most of Here follows Richard (Tom Hanks), growing up in a dysfunctional family (likely the only time Paul Bettany will play his dad), finding his love Margaret (Robin Wright), and growing old. We bear witness to many of the pivotal moments that constitute the mosaic of Richard and Margaret’s lives. So why does Here feel so hollow? Maybe it’s Zemeckis‘ self-imposed mandate to include dozens of other characters throughout history that have little to no impact on our protagonists–outside of loose thematic and visual echoes. Maybe it’s his insistence on keeping the frame locked in a dull master shot that occasionally functions as a closeup when those characters walk towards the lens. The camera isn’t supporting any of the action on screen. It’s just existing. And boy did I yearn for it to move around. One composition for a whole movie isn’t as much fun as your standard thousands–no matter how much happens within that field of view. Here is brimming with that classic sentimental, borderline-schmaltzy Zemeckis feeling, but without any of his visual sweep. The totally restrained style is at odds with its emotional grandeur.

Back to the question at hand. Why is Here as unsatisfying as it is boldly experimental? It could be that few of the many, many scenes are capable of delivering any depth or specificity by design. They’re barely scenes–more requisite moments like Halloween parties, Thanksgiving dinners, fights and kisses. And they’re so short it’s impossible for any single one to make much of an impact. Despite beholding so much of these character’s lives, it feels like we’re barely scratching the surface. Here, like its title, often has all the specificity of a blank greeting card.

There are also the visual effects, which coat the entirety of the Movie. Every moment feels processed or manipulated in some way, whether that’s because the actors are being deepfaked into their younger selves, or digital environments are added alongside countless other elements that obviously never occupied the same space. Cramming so many details onto one small canvas, Here is both too much and too little at the same time.

Now you might be thinking I completely disliked Here, and even though I’d classify it as a failed experiment, it’s still a movie that exists in a class all its own. Maybe you could compare it to Tree of Life or Tom Stoppard’s Arcadia? But you wouldn’t be doing it justice. Even though the sum of its parts is a letdown, there are pieces sprinkled throughout that resonated with me. It offers a few surprises here and there. And I’m genuinely worried about how Here will translate to streaming. On a big screen, most of the characters appear 1:1 life-sized, unless they’re standing close to the lens. And they’re already dramatically flattened by the visual framework. If the premise conjures any interest, or if you’re a lifelong Zemeckis ponderer and enjoyer like myself, I recommend seeing Here in theatres–the way it was clearly intended to be seen–before it’s relegated to the small screen forever.

VVS Films release HERE Friday, November 1, 2024.