Weekly Review -- Unearthly hurt

Rabbit Hole (2010) -- No one ever knows how they would handle grief until it strikes. In its clearest form, it is anguish; in its purest form, it is the kind of torment that tears you apart. Based on David Lindsay-Abaire's play of the same name, John Cameron Mitchell's Rabbit Hole explores the depths of sadness that two people plunge in after suffering the loss of a child.

Becca (Nicole Kidman) and Howie Corbett (Aaron Eckhart) are mourning their son Danny, killed in a car accident six months earlier. While Becca tries to occupy every second of her time to block the tragedy from her sphere of consciousness, she is also slowly erasing Danny's existence by removing reminders of him strewn all around the house. Howie, on the other hand, watches a video of their son on his phone every day, desperate to talk about the loss and share memories, desperate for his wife to acknowledge that they were parents once. The distance between the couple grows further when Becca unexpectedly finds common ground with Jason (Miles Teller), the teenage driver of the car that had hit Danny...

The film is the most realistic portrayal of loss that I have ever seen. The stillness of the proceedings is haunting, reflecting the abyss of grief, the intensity of its grip. Indeed, everything stops in its tracks; life itself stops, even though it goes on. What used to be routine now unfolds in slow motion, metamorphosing into an out-of-body experience that we participate in without being fully aware. As the days tick by, sadness starts impersonating indifference and anger starts bubbling up, only to erupt into tears with any trigger. This quiet, devastating longing is the essence of Rabbit Hole, one that Mitchell captures in his reserved style of direction and one that is visually enhanced through Frank G. DeMarco's subdued cinematography. It is far from easy to delineate presence, to breathe life into fictional characters and make the viewer emotionally invest in what makes them tick. It is nearly impossible to show the nature and value of absence, hanging uninhibited in the air and latching onto every moment of the characters' lives like a shadow. Becca and Howie's sorrow is not only palpable, but is in fact the third protagonist. Infusing the events of their new normal with humor is a refreshing take on the situation, an approach that brings forth the natural human instinct to keep going, even when confronting ultimate agony. Depicting the relevance of the intangible and the soul of the irretrievable is a daunting task and Rabbit Hole succeeds on every level.

The acting is one of the most important elements in any film, but particularly when the topic finds its grounding in reality and the themes run the gamut of the entire human interest spectrum. Kidman is stunning as a woman frozen in pain and denial, feeling responsible for the situation and wishing she could turn back the clock. Instead of dipping into the maudlin like a lesser actor might have done, she holds back, giving Becca time and space to allow herself to feel again. Eckhart is fantastic as a husband and father who takes some relatively unconventional measures in order to alleviate his melancholy loneliness, attempting not to be swallowed by the emptiness of his and Becca's days. The two actors share many scenes that are complex in their simplicity, their performances elevating the somber mood of the piece and rendering them strikingly believable as a couple. As Jason, Teller creates a moving and wistful portrait of a young man who had committed a catastrophic crime and who finds solace in his friendship with Becca. Terrific supporting turns from Dianne Wiest and Sandra Oh add different perspectives to the tale, broadening our understanding of Becca and Howie's previously blissful world and its current incarnation.

Rabbit Hole is one of those rare films that deal with raw emotion, refusing to compromise the story and its evolution for the sake of any cliches. Why? Because life does not work like that. One cannot wrap up all of its surprises, tragedies and insanity in a neat bow. It is messy and unpredictable -- often bringing you happiness, often splitting your heart in half, often complicating what you had already thought could not be undone and always giving you one more chance.

10/10