Earnest Film-Making

An all encompassing genre hybrid that merges elements of tragedy or melancholia with sequences of comical levity, comedy-drama features, or “dramedy” for short, is one of the more recognisable filmic amalgamations that can easily sway or disdain your experience. While there are films in the forms of The Breakfast Club, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Lost in Translation and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind that faithfully and movingly deconstruct characters that are downtrodden and change as the run-time meanders along, there are also a select similar films that proceed to display their respective narratives in a rather bland and formulaic light, such as The Bucket List or The Internship. For me, a dramedy only works if it has meaningful story-arc, as mentioned, and implements a subtle niche that distinguishes itself from the rest of the pack. This is certainly the case with Zach Braff’s Garden State, a quirky yet poignant ‘coming-of-age’ comedy-drama that’s majorly underrated amongst its similar peers since it proposes relatable and purposeful messages…

After many years away, Andrew Largeman (Zach Braff) returns to his home in New Jersey to attend his mother’s funeral. Once there, he is confronted with various aspects of his past life he left behind, his old high-school friends who are equally facing problems and an overbearing father (Ian Holm) who’s concerned for Andrew’s state. While he acquaints himself to his original ‘home’ and the friends ans family he left behind, Largeman also crosses paths with compulsive liar and amateur musician in Sam (Natalie Portman),with whom he feels an immediate and ardent connection. Together with Sam and several other people from his past, Andrew tries to heal old wounds and slowly tries to find what he wants most in his life…

While my initial encounter with Garden State back in high-school prompted me to conjecture that Zach Braff’s first film-making venture would, more or less, have the same distinct and quirky comical gestures seen within Scrubs, an American comedy-drama show that implemented fast-paced slapstick comedy with surreal vignettes that were daydreamed by Braff’s character, what’s paramount to perceive of the aforesaid feature is its wholehearted devotion in deconstructing a singular character who inherits severe internal problems. Indeed, as much as Braff clearly carries over his humorous and often randomly hilarious charms from from Scrubs into his first feature film that displays moments of sorrow, as depicted in particular instances when a mourner belts out a howling rendition of Lionel Ritchie’s Three Times A Lady at Mrs. Largeman’s funeral or when Braff’s character remarks “Yeah, definitely” rather sarcastically and adversely, Garden State poignantly instils heartbreak that never comes across as extravagant as many over comedy-dramas of similar ilk. Through the many scenarios that Andrew faces, Braff, through his own acting and co-ordination as a writer/director, delicately captures the specific, self-involved lethargy of a conflicted twenty year-old person and doesn’t express this from a smug and sentimental point of view. Yes, it’s very easy to view it now from a cynical stand-point sneering at the ‘indie’ tweeness of the visual style, the solemnity of Braff’s enactment of the central character and the quirkiness that Natalie Portman provides in an equally complementary role. However, there’s an authenticity to what Braff is trying to convey, both off and on the screen, and it is this sincere approach of story-telling that initially hooked me when I first came across the feature. From Braff’s character detailing his explanation to his group of friends as to why he left his home town in the first place, to him talking with his dad, played by Ian Holm, about dealing with the pressure to cry and how the medication he’s taken have numbed and instigated his internal depression, there’s an earnest intimacy to the proceedings that stuck-out the most in contrast to silly pleasures of Jim Parson’s making a cameo appearance as a “fast-food knight” or when Portman’s character proposes Andrew to come-up with a sound to feel “unique.” In being partly autobiographical, never do the sequences of sentimentality between Andrew and another character feel pretentious like so many other comedy-dramas that have come to grace the silver-screen. Braff articulately constructs sequences of both comical and serious notions that are wholly appealing and once we reach the conclusion to the story, where Andrew looks into Sam’s eyes and says, “What do we do?”, there’s an interjection of uncertainty between the two individuals that makes for a rather reflective and realistic outcome that rather epitomises Braff as a person and as a lover of cinema. Indeed, the ending can be interpreted as a happy one, with Andrew choosing Sam rather than going back to serve tables and apply for more acting jobs. However, the closing moments in which Braff’s character interjects and questions to Sam about what they should do, feels natural in accordance to the paths that these character have taken throughout the hour and forty minute run-time and, again, doesn’t entirely affirm any optimism going forward.

As surprisingly touching as the story exhibits itself to be, by appropriately balancing comedy and the acts of sincere drama together rather seamlessly, non of the more memorably sequences wouldn’t have been enjoyable to watch if it wasn’t for the depiction of the characters themselves; that goes specifically for Zach Braff’s enactment as Andrew Largeman specifically. Likewise to his contributions as the peculiarly loveable J.D. in Scrubs, Braff asserts himself as the appealing every-man and conveys enough inertia without merging into the background. He is able to create a jokey/sarcastic yet distant character who elicits empathy that many audiences, of similar age, will be able to relate with and for someone who’s also managing the whole structuring of a ‘familiar’ plot that will be interpreted by others, it’s certainly a commendable effort from Braff since he consistently manages every aspect to at least a tolerable degree. It’s the precise timing and subtle flair of his gestures and lines of dialogue that makes Garden State a worthwhile watch for those who are acquainted with Braff’s varying filmography. To contrast Braff’s rather farcical yet monotone presence, Natalie Portman offers a spirited counterpoint with her role as Sam and serves to be the contextual key for Andrew and what he wants to get out of his visit in New Jersey. While the chemistry between Sam and Andrew within the final third of the film contributes towards the empathetic earnest that Braff was sincerely trying to convey, there are moments of awkward antics from Sam that don’t necessarily match-up with the comedic gestures that is shown from other characters. If there’s an interesting idea to consider when looking at the characterisation within Garden State, is how the rest of the individuals that Andrew inevitably meets-up with are also in s stagnant state similar to him. Whether its Mark, portrayed by Peter Sarsgaard, who still lives with his mother and smokes marijuana for comfort or Kenny who is employed as a Police Officer because “there was nothing better else to do”, all the characters, along with Andrew, can be seen as a collective that are equally deprived of their internal stakes. Like Andrew, they’re depressed of what they’ve become and serves as an interesting angle to consider other than perceiving Braff’s characters perspective. 

Upon revisiting Garden State for this very Film Review, one of the aspects that struck me off-guard are the songs that comprise many of the memorable moments of this film. As any good film does, the inclusion of a soundtrack is an imperative construct for film-making, since specific musical pieces elevate the scenario depicted on the screen. While the entirety of Garden State implements an OST that has songs deriving from different bands and singers, it’s one of the more profound soundtracks that I found myself attached once the film had ended. From Coldplay’s Don’t Panic that opens the film, to Zero 7’s In the Waiting Line that accompanies the flow of time depicted when Andrew monotonously sits on a couch, each of the musical pieces that comprise Braff’s feature film feel natural to the respective scenes that each score is placed and never once feel out of place. 

While a first-time or a repeat viewing may tempt those, who are savvy with the comedy-drama genre, to pick-out the aforementioned films arguably ‘formulaic’ and ‘tropey’ plot-points and archetypal depictions of characters that serve their role rather predictably, Zach Braff’s first feature film in the form of Garden State manages to accomplish and engageable amalgamation of hilarity and heartbreak that many similar films fails to wholeheartedly impart. Unlike many comedy-dramas of similar vein that purposefully warrant optimism by the time the conclusion is approaching, Garden State earnestly decides to depict a narrative that is morally downtrodden compared to many others and showcases a character in the form of Andrew Largeman, performed well by Braff himself, that is complicated and is even unsure of himself once the credits cut onto the screen. Even to this day, Garden State still serves to be an emotional and relatable filmic idea that comfortably fits along side the many of other acclaimed comedy-drama orientated features…

On that note, it’s time for me to end this Film Review. As always everyone, thank you for reading my latest Film Review in the form of Zach Braff’s Garden State and I hope you’ve all enjoyed the read! 😉 If anyone has an opinion on either the review or the film itself, you’re all more than welcome to comment your thoughts down below. For either later this week or early next week, I’ll either be giving you a Film Review of Stephen Spielberg’s Ready Player One or Wes Anderson’s Isle of Dogs. Thank you once again for reading this Blog Post and I hope you’re all having a nice start to your week! Adieu! 😊😐👫🎶

★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ – Alex Rabbitte