I'm not a big fan of winter. While I know plenty of people who like the snow, lack of bugs and general slower pace that time of year brings on (aside from the hectic time around the holidays), it's just too cold for me, the days are way too short and people generally become hermits once the holidays are done.
Accordingly, the winter solstice brings out two reactions from yours truly. I hate it since it means we're in the dead of winter and the amount of daylight at its least abundant. Yet, it also means that the days will start getting longer, the weather nicer (at least after a while), and people will start emerging from their self-imposed cocoons. Yes, it's a glass that's both half-full and half-empty.
That's pretty much my reaction to the movie "Winter Solstice," that isn't about that astronomical date, but rather a character who's symbolically hit rock bottom but is starting to emerge -- however slightly -- into his own version of spring. Thankfully, and beyond the title -- also taken from the man's last name being Winter -- the film isn't thick with metaphors and symbolism, although the main seasonal bit is hard to miss.
Instead, it's a drama about a well-liked, but emotionally withdrawn widower who's just starting to thaw out when his oldest son announces he's leaving town. And that's about it. Sure, he meets a middle-aged house-sitter who's just moved into the neighborhood, and his other son is a bit of a slacker, but those elements never really take off or get anywhere.
In fact, the story -- written and directed by Josh Sternfeld (making his feature length debut) -- could have been called "Winter's Iceberg," thus keeping that wintry symbolism in play. And that's because like such huge, glacial fragments, this is a cold and slow-moving affair where the bulk of any substance is well below the visible surface. There's so much going on in the various characters' heads that you wish some of it -- heck, any of it -- would explode onto the scene (but not in a "Scanners" sort of way, as that would turn the film into something entirely different).
One need only watch Anthony LaPaglia ("The Guys," "Lantana") embodying the protagonist to get a sense of just that. I've always like him as an actor and he's certainly proven he can do the sensitive male bit in his sleep. Yet, one need only look at his eyes -- truly the windows to the soul in general but particularly for him -- to see that there's a lot of something going on behind them. He's torn about starting to see women again -- although it's been years since his wife's accidental death -- and he's sensing that he's either lost or is losing his two boys (one of which was traumatized by being in the wreck that took his mother's life).
You can tell all of that and more is whirring about in the protagonist's head, but it only barely manages to surface, much like the tip of an iceberg. The same goes true for Aaron Stanford ("Spartan," "X2") and Mark Webber ("Hollywood Ending," "Snow Day") who play his sons. One's leaving town because he can't -- as he says -- get anything started there. The other has turned into a wandering slacker who's yet to finish school and seems destined for a nomadic life. All are tortured souls of one form or another, but we only get bits and pieces of that.
It's as if Sternfeld is trying to keep us engaged by making us wonder what might eventually occur or be revealed. Unfortunately, the minimalist tease quickly becomes frustrating and the film progressively becomes more boring, especially after we realize that the various emotional icebergs are -- for the most part -- going to remain submerged.
All of which is too bad since the performances are good. Notwithstanding the plot and directorial issues, LaPaglia is near perfect as that damaged soul father figure, while Stanford and Webber are convincing playing his equally troubled sons.
The few women on hand are mostly relegated to background roles, with Michelle Monaghan ("The Bourne Supremacy," "Unfaithful") playing the older brother's girlfriend who obviously reacts adversely to his announcement that he's leaving town. Allison Janney ("How to Deal," TV's "The West Wing") plays the fertilizer, if you will, who starts the father's slow spring emergence. Like the rest of the film, however, their individual and collective presence can't break through the slow pacing and lack of much of anything substantial occurring or developing.
Perhaps if the film had symbolically started closer to the spring equinox -- and things had already thawed out more with even greater amounts of light to shed on the related matters -- the end result might have been better. It's not awful by any means, but with so much of the iceberg remaining submerged and out of sight, the result is a slow-moving affair where not really much happens. "Winter Solstice" rates as a 5 out of 10.
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