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.

An Everyman Strives to Make the Country - and Himself - Better in Swing Vote

This past week found me glued to the television two nights in a row for a pair of long-anticipated events: the Inauguration of Barack Obama and the season five premiere of LOST. A couple days later, I found myself watching a movie with relevance to both: Swing Vote, a feel-good satire about our nation's political process.

Okay, so it's mostly relevant to the ushering in of a new president, as the whole movie is about an extraordinarily close presidential election whose outcome is to be determined by a single man, an immature, beer-swilling single dad in New Mexico named Bud Johnson (Kevin Costner). The particulars of how this duty is bestowed upon him stretch believability, but this is a movie designed to lampoon the circus that is campaigning, so realism isn't a terribly important consideration.

There's enough truth within it to strike a chord with those weary of the endless games politicians seem to play in hopes of winning that coveted vote. In this film, the contenders are Republican incumbent Andrew Boone (Kelsey Grammer), an ultra-conservative fellow who finds common ground with Bud in such earthy activities as football and Nascar, and Democratic hopeful Donald Greenleaf (Dennis Hopper), who appeals to Bud's love of fishing and his fondness for Willie Nelson. I appreciate that writer-director Joshua Michael Stern depicts both candidates as honorable and capable, albeit with very particular prejudices on certain matters. With only one man to impress, both parties throw all of their effort behind attempts to appease him, egged on by their unethical advisors, played by a sibilant Stanley Tucci and pushy Nathan Lane. Meanwhile, Bud becomes a media darling, an instant celebrity on whom the hopes of the country are pinned.

The LOST connection comes in the form of Madeline Carroll, the young actress who plays Bud's daughter Molly. It only took me a moment to realize why I recognized her; though her total onscreen time probably amounted to less than fifteen minutes, she made a big impression on me as Annie, childhood sweetheart of the perpetually perplexing Ben Linus, in season three's The Man Behind the Curtain. I've been itching for the return of her character on the show and expect it will happen at some point, though not necessarily with Carroll in the role; hence, I was pretty tickled to see her here.

Inevitably, I had to draw a few LOST comparisons. We don't know much about Annie's parentage, other than that she must have at least one parent who works for the Dharma Initiative. But Molly's relationship with her father has parallels with Ben's - not, happily, in his level of affection toward her, which is undeniable, but in the way that she has to look after him, particularly after he has been drinking. Bud is clueless but not abusive, but Molly's best friend isn't so lucky, and the isolated children find solace in each other, particularly during a swing set scene that reminds me not only of Ben and Annie but also of a certain shadowy Hogwarts professor and his long-lost love.

Molly really is the heart of the film, a middle schooler with big ambitions who's tired of feeling as though she is raising her dad instead of the other way around. At times, she's an insufferable know-it-all, as only a clever preteen girl can be, but for the most part, she is likable, and it's heartwarming to see how Bud's awareness of the importance of his decision develops because of his daughter. The movie is less snarky and more warm-hearted than I expected, and the great cast helps make the outlandish situation easier to swallow. With this last election still fresh in everyone's minds, Swing Vote is a funny and timely film.