When I’m not discussing film, one of my other professional passions is linguistics. It is the area in which I hold a couple of degrees, and it is a field that I truly love. I ran the gamut of subjects over the years, finding interesting elements in a range of sub-disciplines that all fall under the communication umbrella. However, one area that always struck me as being particularly compelling was that of animal communication, since not only is it a subject that still has an abundance of work being done on it (since we have yet to cross nearly as many boundaries as we hope when it comes to this area of inquiry), but also because it is such a wonderfully peculiar and oddly endearing topic to explore, since it creates even more motivation for the idea that all species, whether sentient or not, are connected in meaningful ways. So much focus is on animals such as dogs, primates and birds, but yet the one animal that has proven to be most fascinating (at least in my opinion) are octopuses – let’s not get into the debate about the plural of the word – since these incredibly intelligent animals have proven to be both bewildering and delightful to anyone who has observed their behaviour, whether professionally or casually. They’re also the subject of the aptly-titled Remarkably Bright Creatures, a novel by Shelby Van Pelt, which has now been adapted to screen by Olivia Newman, who does her best to translate a charming but oddly challenging subject to film. The story follows Tova, who works as a night cleaner at an aquarium in a small seaside town, choosing to keep herself busy as it distracts her from fixating on the loss of both her husband and son, whose deaths she continues to grieve. She soon encounters Cameron, a down-on-his-luck drifter who finds his way into the small town, intent on discovering the identity of his father, his mother having died without ever revealing his identity. The two lonely souls converge, drawn together by their shared affection for Marcellus, an octopus who seems to know much more than anyone expects. It’s a premise that seems simple, but it lends itself to some interesting conversations – but whether or not this adaptation does it justice is up to individual interpretation.

It is not difficult to see why someone would have their curiosity piqued by this film, since the premise sounds original enough to be interesting, while not being too abstract that it could become overly challenging or unwieldy. The appeal of Van Pelt’s novel came in how it blended a few genres, such as mystery, psychological drama and buddy comedy, which are all captivating enough to draw us in and make us at least partially invested in the narrative. Add in the inherently odd concept of a retired widow befriending an octopus, which is not a particularly common dynamic as far as animal-human companionships tend to go, and we have something quite intriguing, particularly at its most idiosyncratic. It’s got a lot of good ideas, and the film does prove to be a relatively faithful adaptation (as was the case with her adaptation of Delia Owens’ Where the Crawdads Sing, Newman does not seem to be enamoured with the idea of reworking these popular texts beyond what was necessary, which is understandable in this era of literary adaptations) – and most importantly, it knows how to draw our attention towards something much more meaningful than we would expect, which is the idea of human connections often coming from the most unexpected of places. It’s a simple premise, but it’s one that works wonderfully when done properly. Newman does what she can with the material, and in layering together the various genres, she creates something that is quite special, even if it’s not anything all that revolutionary. It tackles friendships in different forms, whether between two people from entirely different generations or between humans and animals, and while it may not be particularly revolutionary in the traditional sense, it does have enough merit embedded in it to keep us engaged. The novel was a sensation precisely because of its willingness to be so frank and upfront about its intentions, which do prove to be particularly meaningful when it comes to developing on some of the key themes of the narrative, which begin to make more sense the further we make our way into the story.

Having said all of this, we do find that there is a major disconnect between what Remarkably Bright Creatures wants to say and its methods in going about saying it, a classic case of a canyon forming between intention and execution. The director is not a newcomer, but she’s also not someone who seems to have the ability to elevate the material – the original novel is strong, but there’s a reason why some stories work better on the page than they do on screen, and it all has to do with tone and emotional approach. It’s undeniable that a film about two lonely souls lamenting their respective losses and finding their way into each other’s lives is going to be somewhat sentimental, and not even the strongest visionaries would have been able to avoid some degree of saccharine emotional storytelling. However, we find that the film is extremely limited by its refusal to do much more than the bare minimum, being quite shallow in terms of how it handles some of the more challenging elements of its story. It’s not an inherently poorly-constructed film, but it does have some issues in terms of pacing, which isn’t helped by the fact that it leans so heavily into clichés that it becomes little more than the sum of its parts. There are so many moments where we could have seen something interesting done with the material, but instead of recognising the opportunity to do more with a simple premise, the director decides to veer towards the safest territory. Understandably, they wouldn’t want to take too many risks – after all, Remarkably Bright Creatures is a well-received book and this adaptation almost feels like it was supposed to be a companion rather than an interpretation – but it does ultimately weigh the film done, turning it into something that isn’t necessarily bad (since it is handsomely-made) but rather hopelessly dull when it comes to actually doing something meaningful with its premise.

If there is one element in Remarkably Bright Creatures that warrants praise, it would be the two central performances. It often feels like the entire purpose of this film, outside of banking on a popular novel, was to provide an opportunity for Sally Field to lead a film. One of our great screen performers who has dominated on film, television and stage for over half a century, Field is as beloved and talented today as she was when she was younger, having an absolutely stellar career that is defined by her deep, undying humanity and ability to play every character with her characteristic wit and candour. Unfortunately, we find that, despite her best efforts, this film doesn’t prove to be as strong a showcase for her as we were hoping, since while she does her best, the film around her fails to actually give her anything to do. We can see when there is a disconnect between an actor and their material, and in many cases, it’s easy to determine how much an actor is being put on the spot to carry the entire project themselves. This is unfortunately the case with this film, since Field does what she can, but even she is limited by a tremendously dull screenplay. Lewis Pullman is her co-lead, and he has the same challenges – he’s remarkably gifted and genuinely does his best, but is forced to play a character even more ambiguous and middling than Field, who at least has the benefit of being given someone with some personality, rather than Pullman, who is playing one singular note, despite his best efforts. The two are very good together, but this is in spite of the film, which simply does not know what to do with them other than putting them through the wringer and hoping that, at some point, they’ll be able to compensate for its clear deficiencies. This is not the case here, and it becomes the primary reason the film falls apart despite its best efforts.

We can’t be too harsh on Remarkably Bright Creatures, since even at its worst, its mildly vapid and perhaps a bit manipulative, which does not immediately qualify it to receive too much criticism, especially considering that it always intended to be more of a comforting diversion than an entirely daring work, which is unfortunately something that we have grown to expect from these mid-level, character-based dramas that take a big concept and whittle it down to something manageable. It’s not surprising that the film didn’t quite register as being all that special, since it would not be the first time a solid concept was squandered by lacklustre execution, or where two extraordinarily talented actors (especially Field and Pullman, who are both so gifted and deserved a better vehicle for their pairing, since there is a genuine spark between these characters that warranted something much more interesting) are forced to work with subpar material. It’s a truly mediocre film that commits the unforgivable sin of having potential that is entirely overlooked. There’s really nothing particularly valuable about this film or what it represents, despite having a lot of promise – and if there is any need to prove that some filmmakers need more guidance than others, we just have to look at this film, which would have benefitted from someone who was able to lean into the more abstract, eccentric elements, rather than being guided by the same conventional tropes that are constantly present in these films. While it is relatively compelling at times, and delivers a lovely message, Remarkable Bright Creatures eventually just become a bundle of cliches, never really amounting to anything all that valuable and falls victim to the need to strike while the iron is hot, rather than giving the novel some time to develop a more meaningful following, since time would have very likely allowed a more meaningful product to emerge.