Secondhand Lions is Not Second-Rate

There was a beautiful moment during the Academy Awards in 2000 when Michael Caine, during his acceptance speech for the Best Supporting Actor Oscar, gave a nod to young Haley Joel Osment, nominated for The Sixth Sense, praising him for his masterful performance. The respect evident in that instant made the prospect of a future collaboration appealing, and fans of both actors got to see two masters at opposite ends of the spectrum work together in 2003's Secondhand Lions. Make that three. Osment stars alongside not only Caine but veteran Robert Duvall, another favorite actor of mine. When I learned of their collaboration, it sweetened the deal on a movie I already wanted to see just based on Osment’s participation.

The film’s premise intrigued me all the more. Walter (Osment) is an awkward boy just on the cusp of adolescence, as evidenced by his often squeaky voice. His mother (Kyra Sedgewick), a rather shifty woman with a knack for falling for abusive guys, decides to leave Walter with his uncles for the summer while she goes fishing for men, and we’re not talking in the spiritual sense. She has more expansive goals than getting rid of the kid for a while, though. She sees Walter as the key to a fortune, as Hub (Duvall) and Garth (Caine), recently returned from who-knows-where, are rumored to be filthy rich.

I was particularly drawn to these uncles because of two gentlemen in my family who have rather legendary status in our folklore. In The Land That Gives and Takes Away, the book I wrote chronicling the memories and family stories abundant in my grandma’s birthplace of Little Pine Valley, I devote a poem to these two eccentric brothers whose booze was in such demand during the Prohibition that they wound up fabulously wealthy. Like Hub and Garth, though, you wouldn’t know Oren and John were rich. They lived as though they were scraping for a living, and no one expected to find money stashed away in every corner of the house when they died. Seeing two of my favorite actors step into similar roles was thrilling; it was almost like they were bringing my long-departed relatives, whom I’d never been able to meet, to life.

They’re an ornery old pair, unused to company and none too fond of it. Walter suits them all right, though, because he doesn’t talk much and consequently doesn’t bother them. He just observes, jittery, while Garth and Hub demonstrate their idea of entertainment: shooting traveling salesmen. They never hit them, of course, but it’s a little too close for comfort. Then there’s the fact that he’s trailed constantly by several dogs and a pig, all of whom are rather intimidating to him at first. But Walter finds a reason to stay in the stories he first discovers in an old trunk and later draws out of the mellower Garth. The uncles, meanwhile, find his presence beneficial once they discover he’s a deterrent to the visits of another set of relatives who happen to be utterly obnoxious.

What unfolds is a gentle coming of age tale in which Walter finally begins to grow out of his paralyzing timidity and the uncles recall the glory of living life to its fullest. We see their magnificent past through a series of stories told by Garth. There is an air of fantasy about them. The colors are too bright, the action too choreographed, the victories too complete. We are left to determine the degree to which what we see through Garth’s telling is reflective of reality. Hub eventually tosses in his two cents, noting that sometimes it’s worth believing in something whether it actually happened or not. A similar line was once uttered in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. The point we are left with is that truth goes beyond cold fact; sometimes pure fiction can be more meaningful than what actually happened, and in any case faith is worth holding onto no matter how improbable the object of that faith seems.

The acting is solid throughout. Though it won’t be the most acclaimed performance by any of its leads, all three do an excellent job, imbuing their characters with warmth and humor. Hub, the crustier of the two, takes a while to come around, but in the end it’s clear he’s grown as attached to the boy as Garth has. Sedgewick is eminently irritating as Walter’s mother, and I wonder whether that’s good acting or just the way she is. She annoyed me in Phenomenon, too, and she wasn’t supposed to. The supplementary characters, particularly the interfering relatives and salesmen, are a hoot. I love the rural setting and the fact that all of Walter’s new companions are quadrupeds. He soon doesn’t mind being trailed by a gaggle of dogs and one pig with an identity crisis, and he lavishes love upon the weathered old lioness he adopts after his uncles deem her an unsuitable hunting target. In spite of his initial trepidation, he establishes a rapport with these creatures quickly, as evidenced in a funny moment early on when he glances uneasily from his uncles’ sausage and egg breakfast to the pig standing outside the door with a chicken resting on his head.

The flashback moments are fun, but they’re a bit over-the-top and are really just meant as a visual interpretation of Garth’s stories. (When that style joins with the present in the alternative ending, it really doesn’t gel. The more subdued finale they chose works much more nicely.) There’s nothing quite like being regaled by a master storyteller, and one of the best parts is filling in the visual blanks for yourself. Secondhand Lions is a story about stories, about family history and how truth and legend become intermingled to the point that no one knows just what really happened and no one really cares. It’s what the stories mean to the people today that becomes important.

One interesting aspect of the film was the end credits. I love when a movie rewards those who bother to stick around for the credits. In this case, we learn that Walter has grown up to be a cartoonist. The credits show us scenes from his youth as told through his artistry – another form of storytelling. The cartoons come courtesy of Berkeley Breathed, who complied with director Ted McCanlies’ request to furnish illustrations. It was the first time his work had been seen in several years, and from what I read the gig reinvigorated him, leading him to create the weekly strip Opus, which revived one of his most popular characters. That may or may not have been a good thing...

Secondhand Lions didn’t get all that much attention when it came out, and many critics who did bother to review it weren’t kind. But I think it’s a sweet, down-home family film led by a stellar trio of actors, and I would heartily recommend it to help you remember “the things worth believing in.”