Who of us has not had the experience of having an alien spacecraft crash-landed in our backyard, its occupant (a mysterious and entirely silent grey entity) entering our homes and becoming quite a pleasant houseguest? The absurdity of this situation is exactly what makes Jules, a film by Marc Turtletaub, so incredibly engaging and entertaining. The film centres on the character of Milton, a lonely widower who is essentially at war with everyone in his small town, whether it be his neighbours, fellow townspeople or even his daughter, who begins to worry about his ability to live on his own. However, when the titular character (a strange extraterrestrial being) accidentally finds their way into his life, Milton begins to question not only his sanity but the nature of reality as a whole. As entertaining and hilarious as the premise makes it sound, Jules is an absolute delight, a wonderfully quirky comedy with a good sense of humour and a genuine love for its characters, which makes an enormous difference when considering the extent to which the story is willing to take its narrative, which may seem simple on the surface, but conceals a complexity that could be quite surprising to those of us who made up our minds about what this film would be from the start. Hilarious and heartfelt in equal measure, and just as entertaining as we may expect, Jules is a wonderfully quaint film that proves that some of the best stories are those that seem the most predictable at the start, but gradually reveal a depth that none of us could have anticipated, which only makes for a richer and more evocative narrative, setting the foundation for a truly delightful, earnest comedy with a lot of heart and soul, and enough intelligence to transform these elements into something much more profound.

At first glance, Jules is not anything particularly impressive in terms of the genre elements that exist right at the centre – it’s essentially a story about a friendship forming between a trio of senior citizens and an alien that stumbles into their lives and essentially uproots it. From the start, we have to make it clear that this is not a shortcoming of the film – Turtletaub didn’t have any intention of challenging conventions or going in other directions with the material and strived to make a film that was a straightforward blend of comedy and science fiction, not aiming to reinvent either genre but instead creating something lovely from what existed already. This may seem uninspiring and quite dull in theory, but it does make sense in the context of the story, which is shaped in such a way that it adds layers of meaning and complexity, especially when it is least expected. The film very cleverly refuses to buckle to expectations, particularly in terms of the genre, since it would have been very easy to simply throw together a few common elements in the hopes that audiences would simply go along for the ride. Instead, it uses these aspects as the starting point to something much deeper and more interesting, namely to explore certain themes that are the most memorable aspects of the story. Jules is a film that uses the concept of an old man befriending an alien as the foundation for an examination of several more universal themes – ageing, loneliness and friendship are all common concepts that this film carefully explores through the use of the central motif, which is introduced with extraordinary delicacy and honesty, something that propels the film forward and allows it to be such a wonderfully endearing, captivating comedy with a lot of heart and even more meaning simmering beneath the surface.

As far as acting is concerned, Jules casts quite a formidable trio of veterans in the central roles. In a career spanning half a century, Ben Kingsley has continuously proven himself to be a chameleon of an actor, being able to play just about every role thrown at him and turning in unforgettable, nuanced performances that are both strong and interesting. Jules is not a particularly complex film, and nor is the character of Milton – but yet Kingsley approaches the role with the same level of dedication and forthright commitment to exploring the underlying aspects of this individual, turning him into a three-dimensional character with depth, heart and humour in an abundance. Considering that he is extremely prolific and has shown very little sign of slowing down, we can sometimes overlook the fact that Kingsley is a tremendous actor when given the right material, and he manages to elevate quite a simple film into something quite special. Joining him are Jane Curtin and Harriet Sansom Harris, who are the epitome of unheralded character actors who may be utilized mostly in small roles in other films, but who frequently turn in undeniably brilliant performances that allow them to steal every scene they are in. The same cannot be said for Jules, solely because they are front-and-centre, playing the major roles that they deserve. Harris in particular is incredible – endearing and exuding such warmth and joyfulness, her performance is one of the highlights of the year, a simple but elegant portrayal of a lonely woman trying to make the world a better place. Curtin plays in some ways her polar opposite, a bitter and cynical woman whose loneliness has turned into a kind of hatefulness that only the titular character manages to thaw. The trio at the heart of Jules are terrific, and bring such complexity to relatively simple, unfurnished parts that don’t seem to be too much on the surface, but have a lot to say once the story develops.

There’s a charm to Jules that is impossible to mimic since it has a lot of heart that could only be formed from the genuine belief in the material, which is exactly the element that keeps this film afloat. It may focus on quite an implausible story, but it is undeniable that what it is doing is far from phoney in terms of the emotional content. In the more lighthearted moments, the humour is clean, concise and gets to the point, whereas in the sequences where we are asked to empathize more deeply with these characters, it never comes across as inauthentic. There is a lot of exploration that this film does into the lives of these characters, and it walks quite a delicate tonal tightrope – the performances by the three leads are all fantastic, but they can only be as good as the material allows, and while it may not be groundbreaking writing, the screenplay does make sure that it puts some thought into the underlying conversations, which are handled beautifully. It’s not particularly complex storytelling, but the honesty with which the director approaches some of these ideas and develops them into a much deeper and more poetic depiction of what it means to grow older, and how there are challenges that come about in our senior years that could be devastating if we are not prepared for them, a universal theme that flows liberally throughout this otherwise wacky, off-the-wall comedy. It’s not particularly challenging filmmaking, but it is genuinely quite moving, and it has a lot of heart in all the places where it means the most, which allows the film to be a much more intriguing affair than it may seem to be on the surface. Turtletaub is not known as a director, having only stepped into the role in the last decade after a long career of producing, so working closely with screenwriter Gavin Steckler, he assembles quite a lovely film with a lot of heart and humour, which is more than enough to push this fascinating story forward.

On the surface, Jules seems like quite a conventional film – a simple comedy with a straightforward premise that skirts around the edges of being entirely silly by infusing the plot with genuine heart and a lot of pathos. However, as we look deeper, we find that this is a true gem of a film, a wonderfully endearing use of a science fiction premise as an allegory for several themes, which are all shown through the lens of some of the most tender and heartfelt emotions. It may not be revolutionary, and it doesn’t do too much in terms of some of its more complex themes, but it never promises to be anything more than it appears to be on the surface, which is part of what makes it such a delightfully endearing comedy that has a lot of heart and soul simmering beneath the surface. It is easy to overlook the film as nothing more than a one-dimensional comedy that combines humour and speculative fiction, but much like the story as a whole, once we step away from common conceptions and instead start to look at it as much than just what is presented to us on the surface, the deeper and more interesting it tends to become, which is all part of what makes it such a special little film. It offers exactly what it promises, and never does much more than aim to be entertaining and lovable, carrying an important message about ageing and the challenges of being lonely, which are universal conversations that will resonate with every viewer. Simple but effective, and always charming to a fault, Jules truly is a lovely, engaging film with an abundance of heart and humour, both of which are always welcome.