Dueling Perspectives Accentuate the Communication Gap in Rob Reiner's Flipped

One of my favorite moments in all of LOST occurs in season three, when we get a glimpse into the childhood of Benjamin Linus, arguably the most complex character in the series. In this scene, a girl named Annie shows him two dolls she has made, one to represent her, the other him. She presents him with the Annie doll and explains, “Now we never have to be away from each other.”

It’s a shining moment of true friendship in the otherwise deeply troubled life of a Machiavelli in the making. So powerful was its impact that although she only appeared in that episode, Annie remains one of my favorite characters on the show. When I discovered that Flipped, a 2010 Rob Reiner film I found while browsing IMDb, features Madeline Carroll, the actress who portrayed Annie, I knew I had to rent it. The cover photograph of two 14-year-old friends sharing a tree perch, reminiscent of Annie and Ben sharing a swing set, was the icing on the cake.

In Flipped, adapted from the Wendelin Van Draanen novel by Reiner and Andrew Scheinman, Carroll plays Juli Baker, an eighth grader who has been smitten with her neighbor, Bryce Loski (Callan McAuliffe), ever since he moved in across the street six years earlier. Bryce considers her more of a nuisance than a real friend, while she treasures their relationship and imagines that his feelings run deeper than he is willing to let on. It’s the early 1960s, and painful secrets lurk beneath the surface of a seemingly placid neighborhood. Everything is about to get more complicated for both Juli and Bryce, and how they relate to one another will have an important effect on their lives in this year of transition.

The look and feel of the movie is appealing, with Thomas Del Ruth’s sunny cinematography reflecting the innocence of the chief characters, while early sock hop hits pepper the soundtrack. Bryce watches Bonanza with his family; Juli confesses to a crush on the Everly Brothers and can’t decide which of the duo she prefers. Both of the central families are close-knit but don’t speak with each other as freely as they should; the communication gap there mirrors the chasm that exists between Bryce and Juli.

In Juli’s family, the most engaging character is her eccentric dad (Aidan Quinn), who looks at the world with an artist’s eye but fails to see that his unkempt lawn has become the bane of the neighborhood. The family is struggling, but we don’t really understand why until an eye-opening visit with Juli’s uncle (Kevin Weisman) partway through the movie. Her mother (Penelope Ann Miller) is frustrated but kind, and both parents encourage the musical aspirations of her twin brothers (Michael Bolten and Shane Harper).

Cheerful teens Mark and Matt spend a lot of time with Bryce’s older sister Lynetta (Cody Horn), much to the disapproval of Bryce’s spiteful father (Anthony Edwards), who has had nothing good to say about the Baker clan from day one. Bryce’s mother (Rebecca de Mornay) is more understanding, but it’s his withdrawn, widowed grandfather, Chet (John Mahoney), who has the largest role to play thanks to his fondness for Juli, which gradually brings him out of his shell and helps to bridge the division that develops between the youngsters.

While I found this movie thoroughly enjoyable on several levels, what appealed to me most is the way we alternate between Bryce and Juli’s perspectives. One narrates for a while, and then we switch over to the other, usually with some overlap that gives us a very different reading on what we just saw in the previous scene. Bryce’s narration, especially toward the beginning, is a bit aggressive; he just can’t understand why Juli won’t leave him alone, and he would be mortified to realize that she thinks he is giving off encouraging signals.

Meanwhile, her tone is generally dreamy; she spends a lot of time with her head in the clouds, which may partly account for the disconnect between her perceptions and reality. Bryce thinks she’s a loon, but Chet, who begins spending his afternoons helping her landscape her front lawn, insists she’s special. Finally, Bryce’s impression of her begins to change, but not before his insensitivity causes Juli to seriously reconsider her long-held affections…

McAuliffe, who I’d never encountered before, turns in a good performance as Bryce, who generally comes across as shallower than Juli but matures as the year progresses. However, it was Carroll who really impressed me. Of course, I was predisposed to like Juli because of LOST and Chet because of Frasier, so that may have influenced me, but I generally found that Juli’s half of the storyline was more poignant and profound. Most often, her problems are more pressing, and she reacts with more compassion to the trials of others.

Chet’s admiration for her blooms after she makes a brave stand to save the majestic sycamore tree that serves as her favorite thoughtful spot, and she takes it upon herself to beautify her family’s property, accepting her neighbor’s aid in part because she realizes his need for kindred companionship. Later, she comes to understand the painful truth behind her family’s financial difficulties, and her kindness compels her to make a surprising decision during a school fundraiser. Carroll has more dramatic material to work with, while McAuliffe’s veers more often toward the comical.

Flipped is a mirthful movie that exposes the very different ways in which people, especially teenage boys and girls, think. It’s common for one person to be completely oblivious to something the other thinks is obvious, and these missed signals have great comedic heft. At the same time, all these misunderstandings have the capacity to derail a friendship, and one wonders while watching whether it might be better if two people in such a situation could simply, as Gordon Lightfoot wistfully proposed, read each other’s minds. Or would knowing too much present just as many pitfalls as not knowing enough?

What is clear after watching the movie is that everyday interactions only skim the surface of a person’s innermost thoughts, and whether you’re 14 or 41, delving deeper is a dance whose complicated choreography is never the same for any two people. For Juli and Bryce, the steps are awkward indeed, but the final waltz is as graceful as the slope of a sycamore limb under a fiery sky.

Johnny Depp Steals the Show and a Heart in Benny & Joon

“We’re all a little weird, and life’s a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them in mutual weirdness and call it love.” This quote, which I’ve most often seen attributed to Dr. Seuss, sprang to mind immediately when I watched Benny & Joon, a quirky 1993 movie written by Lesley McNeil and Barry Berman and directed by Jeremiah S. Chechik. Joon (Mary Stuart Masterson) is an intelligent, artistic, severely socially impaired young woman who lives with her brother Benny (Aidan Quinn), a mechanic. Sam (Johnny Depp) is a quiet, eccentric newcomer to town with a rare gift for pantomime. When the cousin with whom he is staying fobs him off on Benny, Sam and Joon meet, and the result is magic.

I’d never heard of this movie before Netflix Instant Viewing led me to it, but I figured with Depp in a lead role, the chances of my liking it were pretty good. He excels at playing characters that are exceedingly strange – and all the more lovable for it. Sam doesn’t talk much, instead watching the world with wide eyes and making his own distinctive way through it, totally unperturbed by the funny looks that people tend to give him. Benny’s a nice guy who’s used to unusual behavior, so he has no objections to Sam, and he soon finds himself impressed by both his housecleaning prowess and his brilliant natural showmanship. Meanwhile, Joon and Sam intrigue each other, and gradually, he brings her out of her shell, with some help from Ruthie (Julianne Moore), a waitress with an eye for Benny. But is romance really in the cards for a woman like Joon, whose past trauma has caused intense withdrawal from the world? Benny isn’t so sure…

Masterson puts in a good performance as a woman who has a lot going for her but is also clearly just a bit off, and Quinn brings an earthy charm and a strong protective streak to his role. Moore is likable as someone who is understanding of both Sam and Joon’s oddities and who wants to get close to Benny but is frustrated by the barriers he puts between them. But Depp really steals the show with his beautifully choreographed physical comedy and the innate sweetness of his character. Sam seems to wander through life in a bit of a happy daze, doing his own thing and being content with very little. When he’s on the screen, he is mesmerizing.

I gave this movie a shot mostly because of him. When it started to the tune of The Proclaimers’ I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles), I figured that was a good sign. That cheerful pledge of willingness to go to great lengths for the sake of a loved one bookends the movie, while most of the music has an airy, romantic flavor to it, like the waltzes of Pushing Daisies and the scores of the silent films to which it seems Sam belongs. That adds to the appeal of this endearing little film about a couple of weirdoes, each of whom is just the right kind of weird for the other.