It may be hopelessly cliched, by the adage “growing old is mandatory, growing up is optional” has proven to be far more relevant than we may have initially imagined, which is something that a lot of us have learned as we mature and realize the various trials and tribulations that come with adult life. There are so many works that explore the concept of not surrendering to the supposed bleakness of old age, but rather enjoying the journey and retaining a sense of youthfulness as far as you can, which is solid advice and something that we’d all benefit from following. A film that examines this concept with elegance, tact and humour is The Grass Harp, in which director Charles Matthau collaborates with the legendary screenwriter Serling Siliphant to adapt the novella of the same title, written by Truman Capote in what was to be seen as one of his most personal, self-reflective works, one that was essentially semi-autobiographical in many parts. The story focuses on a young man who is sent to live with some distant relatives in the Deep South in the 1940s, and over the years he becomes immersed in the daily happenings of this quaint small town in Alabama, where he is surrounded by some wonderfully eccentric individuals that prove that age is merely a number and that it is never too late to start fresh (to paraphrase too additionally common sayings that bear a lot of relevance to this film), especially when you are allowed to see life from an entirely different perspective. A simple film, but one with a lot of heart and even more humour, The Grass Harp is an absolute delight, a work of impeccable honesty and extraordinary sincerity, put together by someone who is not considered a particularly noteworthy director, but who undoubtedly dedicated to this material, demonstrating a close connection to the ideas situated right at the heart of this film, which is a charming and eccentric comedy with a lot of soul, enough to overcome a few narrative flaws.

The Grass Harp is a film that represents an old-fashioned style of filmmaking, employing a traditional sensibility that is increasingly rare to find in the modern world. Not necessarily conservative in its views (especially not with a story originally written by someone as liberal as Capote), but rather drawn from an era in which life was a lot simpler, at least in the locales that this film explores. This rustic, small-scale sensibility is extremely delightful and reminds us of the easygoing stories of writers like Mark Twain, who crafted the textual equivalent of a lazy Sunday afternoon, and whose work has always been reflective of much deeper meaning. It is intriguing to see that Capote wrote a novel such as this – his work is either gleefully urbane and modern, and in the rare instance that he did venture into a more pastoral setting, it resulted in something as bleak and harrowing as In Cold Blood. This story sees him at his most empathetic, reflecting on his upbringing in Monroeville, situated in the heart of Alabama, where he spent his formative years and learned some of life’s most important lessons. It almost seems rather simplistic for someone as known for their urban wit and candour to have written something so tenderly simple, but as one of the great writers of his generation, he could elevate even the most pedestrian of material, infusing it with a personal touch, which is more relevant than ever in the case of this film. The best decision this film made was hiring Silliphant to adapt the novel – one of the great writers of his generation, he has shown himself to be an impeccable voice whose ability to capture the zeitgeist of whatever period the work is set in has made for a profoundly solid body of work, which makes him the perfect candidate to bring this enchanting, motivational account of childhood to the screen in creative and meaningful ways.

Consistent with the very traditional style of the story, we have a cast that beautifully embodies this quaint, small-town charm. One of the great decisions made in this film is to combine different generations of actors, drawn from a range of eras in Hollywood history, giving each one of them something valuable and interesting to do in this ensemble. Whether it be those who had their roots in the Golden Age of cinema like Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon, or the likes of Piper Laurie and Sissy Spacek, who defined the period known as New Hollywood, to actors like Edward Furlong, who was one of the most exciting young actors during this period, or even those that blurred the boundaries, like Mary Steenburgen and Scott Wilson. There isn’t a weak performance to be found anywhere in this film, which is a wonderful discovery, considering the material is not consistently strong, and has some weak moments that could have been a challenge for some of these actors. Choosing standouts is difficult since we find that some of the best performances are those that only appear for a few scenes, while some of the larger roles are slightly weak, and never necessarily bad in any way. It is Matthau who rises above the rest of the cast – you could argue that he was given the role of Charlie Cool, the congenial and eccentric judge who lingers throughout the film as a voice of reason, due to the film being directed by his son, but even beside this arrangement, Matthau is fantastic in the role, especially since he has chemistry with every one of his fellow actors, charming them in the same way he captures the attention of the audience. Laurie is truly charming, while Spacek turns in a rare villainous performance (although she has a change of heart during one of the climactic final scenes), with all of these elements weaving together to create a spirited and engaging story of the human condition, quietly and gracefully placed on stage by this terrific ensemble.

However, despite its simple exterior, there is a lot more meaning beneath the surface, which is to be expected from a film based on a work by a writer like Capote, who infused every word of his stories with layers of complexity, even if these ideas were not entirely prominent. The most prominent theme is that of identity and its relationship with social and cultural structure. The film is a simple coming-of-age story about a young man learning many important lessons through interacting with a range of characters, each one of them making invaluable contributions to his upbringing, even if it was not intentional. However, there is a reading of this film that looks at queer identity, which is made very obvious in that this is a semi-autobiographical account of the formative years of Capote, who was an openly gay man and who spoke quite freely about his development as a member of the community in a small town where such ideas were simple, not conceivable. Queerness is never the focus of this film, but rather it appears in the subliminal details, which are so subtle we sometimes don’t even notice them, and when we do, it is still a subject of rabid debate as to whether it means what it seems to be implying, or if this is just conjecture. The characters of Dolly and Catherine are the most prominent examples of these queer ideas – two unmarried women living nearby, constantly shifting their identity (with the latter being a black woman who claims to be Native American), and who show very little interest in marriage. Perhaps it is reading too much into the film, or even a case of simply just placing too much emphasis on this aspect of the story, which is more than likely incidental, but only viewed as being more than this based on Capote being at the helm of the story. However, even if we look beyond this concept, we find that The Grass Harp is a spirited and meaningful deconstruction of society as seen through the perspective of someone who experienced many challenges in his youth, which he tenderly conveys through this story, which is both insightful and funny, much like the majority of his work, and which the director perfectly capture on screen.

The Grass Harp is the kind of easygoing, relentlessly captivating film that finds the perfect balance between tender drama and heartfelt humour. It’s an extremely easygoing film, one that has a lot of heart and soul embedded within, as well as a truly touching story that may be very predictable but is strong enough to hold our attention. This is a terrific film, an actively engaging, profoundly moving examination of the process of growing up, and how it is neither a linear process nor one that ever ends since we are all constantly growing and learning, which can be a challenge for those who aren’t all that receptive to the journey. It may not be entirely complex, and it relies on the same kind of expected emotions that border on overwrought at some points – but the strength that we find at the heart of The Grass Harp is extremely important and impactful, and makes quite a difference when we realize just how far this story goes to explore the world in which it inhabits. Capote was a great writer, and his words are gloriously brought to life throughout this film, which serves to be an engaging, captivating examination of society and the role it plays in our development. A brilliant cast filled with a combination of veterans and newcomers helps anchor the story and push it forward, as does the impeccable script and wonderful direction that holds it all together. The Grass Harp is a terrific film, and one of the many gems from this period that have faded into slight obscurity purely because they are seen as overly simple and quite pedestrian – but should we dare look deeper, we’ll find that this is a far more intriguing film than we’d initially expect, and one with an abundance of soul.