
“Right here is where we want to be”
Home is a fascinating concept – for some, their home is nothing more than an ever-changing shelter from the outside world, for others it is a sanctuary in which they can truly be themselves, while for others it is a firm representation of their past that can sometimes span entire generations in both directions. Moreover, each home is unique to every one of us, representing something different, even to those who share the same space. In what is a surprisingly complex and detailed work, Robert Zemeckis reunites with screenwriter Eric Roth (with whom he made some of his most successful and acclaimed projects) to adapt the graphic novel Here by Richard Maguire, which is set in the same space and covers thousands of years of history, showing the various occupants that called this small patch of earth their home at various points in the past. Whether it is long-extinct creatures roaming the land that has yet to be touched by humanity, or a family enduring the challenges of the COVID-19 pandemic, this has been the home to so many living beings, each one having a unique connection to one another without even realising it, and who are bound by some unspoken universal code. Zemeckis has never been viewed as a particularly exciting director as far as storytelling or technical prowess tends to go, but rather one who is defined by his consistency and willingness to experiment within clearly controlled parameters, which makes Here the perfect project for him to express both his desire to innovate without having to do too much in terms of challenging the artistic status quo. An audacious adaptation of a fascinating text, helmed by someone who is frequently insistent on following his path while still producing work that reflects his underlying fascination with several themes, Here is a truly lovely film that carries a sense of affection for its subject that we have found to be inexplicably rare in a lot of contemporary cinema, offering a well-placed burst of compassion and consistency that is always welcome, even when it isn’t particularly revolutionary in any discernible way.
The hook used to draw people into Here is to take a very similar approach to Maguire’s graphic novel, which consisted of a stagnant frame set in the same spot, which evolved as time progressed and took on different forms, ultimately becoming the house that serves as the foundation for most of the story. Rather than trying to do something more traditional, Zemeckis experiments with form and creates quite a distinct visual palette through the use of some very innovative ideas, playing with compositions and framing to create the illusion of the entire film taking place in one unbroken shot throughout thousands of years, with the only changes being the gradual shift in appearance and the people that occupy the space at different points. It’s very audacious and it’s one aspect that seems to be objectively praised, even if only in theory. Zemeckis is a peculiar director insofar as he is very much indebted to the establishment and is very rarely willing to rattle the cage all too much, but he is also outright defiant in his refusal to settle for the bare minimum, and it seems like the vast majority of films he has made in the past forty years have oscillated between very traditional dramas and more ambitious, off-the-wall endeavours, but where even the most conventional of films seem to have some degree of experimentation guiding certain elements. He’s a director trying to make mainstream films that are mildly subversive and very unique, and this kind of gumption is one of the reasons it feels like he sometimes bites off more than he can chew, especially when attempting to do something that has never been done before. Here is one of the many attempts to challenge the artistic structure without being entirely revolutionary, but it has its roots firmly planted in a clear, concise vision that is certainly very difficult to not at least admire, even if it is from a distance. The simplicity of the approach, coupled with the fact that it is genuinely very well-made in terms of its technical elements, is one of the reasons it feels so thoroughly engaging and achieves something quite enthralling in the process.
There is a conversation to be had about the use of artificial intelligence in this film (particularly in how it is used to de-age the older characters), but like anything else in this film, it is a tool that was bound to divide, and even those of us who are agnostic to its use can see that it did fit in with the maximalist vision the director had for the material. It mercifully doesn’t distract too much from the performances, which feature a reunion between Zemeckis and Tom Hanks, one of his most frequent collaborators and someone with whom he has a clear artistic rapport. It also serves as a reunion between Hanks and Robin Wright, who had last worked together on Forrest Gump, in which Zemeckis once again built a beautiful love story using these two extremely charismatic actors who have exceptionally strong chemistry. The actors in Here are mostly secondary, which is not a criticism but rather an observation – the setting is the primary character, and the ensemble cast merely exists to indicate the passage of time and the lives that occupied this space, essentially indicating that no one is delivering a performance that stands out, but rather working to fit in with the overall nature of the film, which functions as more of a mosaic of many lives than a character study. This doesn’t at all invalidate the wonderful work done by the actors – Hanks and Wright are certainly very good, but so are Paul Bettany and Kelly Reilly, who are just as integral to the development of the plot, as the entire ensemble, who fit in perfectly into their small but significant segments. The film leaps liberally through different periods, being presented out of chronological order, but still having some sense of structure that comes through in the simple but evocative work being done by quite a large group of actors who understand that they are not the focus, but still deliver very strong work that grounds this film within a recognizable version of reality that only strengthens its underlying themes and makes it so much more engaging.
Perhaps the most clearly relevant criticism that many have asserted against this film is not in the style or the performances (both of which are quite good), but rather the emotional content. Zemeckis’ primary flaw, according to his detractors, is that he veers far too closely to heavy-handed sentimentality, to the point where he has actively squandered the potential of otherwise promising films by making them unnecessarily saccharine, a critique that is almost objectively true of a lot of his work, and which Here doesn’t manage to entirely overcome for the most part. However, there is still a sense of deep compassion that drives this film, and while it tends to be quite overwrought throughout, it makes sense given the scope of the film and what it is attempting to say, which is essentially that we are all connected in one way or another, and that we may not be aware of the rich history of a particular place. There’s a psychological concept I adore known as sonder, which is the realization that every person we pass in our daily lives is a fully-formed, complex human being and that we cannot possibly ever know the multitude of their individual lives, yet we share the same space for just a fleeting moment and exist as a miniscule part of each other’s lives, often without ever realizing it, which is a beautiful and intimidating concept. This film takes this idea and applies it to a small, almost seemingly insignificant piece of land, showing the multitude of lives that existed on that space, and which none of the residents – past, present or future – entirely could comprehend, since we’re all living our own lives, and are completely unaware of the multitude of previous and forthcoming lives will pass through these same spaces. Here is a film that aims to make the viewer feel a range of emotions – joy, sadness, love and despair – and ultimately achieves this exact outcome, weaving a beautifully intimate, heartwarming story about humankind and the invisible threads that bind us together in ways that we don’t always recognize.
Here is not a perfect film – it can lean too much into the sentimentality, and while its approach is fascinating, it does tend to wear slightly thin after some time. However, neither of these should be seen as an endorsement for needlessly harsh criticism of a film that is certainly primarily more pleasant than it is innovative, but yet still earns our respect through its honest and sincere approach to its material and the underlying themes. Everyone from the most thoughtful philosopher to the most ambitious of artists has been focused on proving that we are all connected in some way, and while we cannot ever hope to even begin to comprehend the scope of human history, it is possible to find meaning in something as simple as looking at how a single space can encompass thousands of years of history, each story being meaningful and poetic in its way. It is occasionally reductive and it is mostly conjecture, but Here is still extremely effective, having a heart and soul that is difficult to ignore, and showing that Zemeckis, as uninspiring as some of his work has been, still can make the audience feel something, which is not an easy task to achieve, especially with this simple of a premise. We ascribe as much meaning to this film as we are willing to give, so for some, it can be a revelatory experience, and for others a conventional and trite attempt at over-the-top sentimentality. The beauty of a film like Here is that it offers us the chance to create our relationship with the story, and whether we see it as mere escapism or something deeper is entirely up to our interpretation, and one of the many reasons it is difficult to not see it as at least somewhat successful, especially since it represents a return to ambitious filmmaking that may be bold and ostentatious but has all the right ideas arranged in an order that remains extremely meaningful and profoundly moving.