Remarkably Bright Creatures

Sally Field and Lewis Pullman

Olivia Newman's adaptation of Remarkably Bright Creatures is pleasant fare. Any adaptation of Shelby Van Pelt's bestselling novel would suffer from the contrivances and cutesy anthropomorphism of that magically realistic work, but Newman's restraint and the efforts of a well chosen and talented cast made for palatable viewing even for this hardened cynic. Set in the present day Pacific Northwest, the film and novel tells of two damaged loners who bond over an aging octopus in a small aquarium. The octopus (voiced mellifluously by Alfred Molina) is named Marcellus and provides occasional narration, somewhat dismissive of his human captors, that gives the film a welcome sardonic note. Tova (Sally Field) is an elderly widow in a small coastal town work who works nights at the aquarium where Marcellus becomes her sounding board. After Tova injures her ankle, she tutors her replacement, Cameron (Lewis Pullman), a drifter at loose ends after the dissolution of his band. Both Tova and Cameron have trauma lingering from their past which, with the help of each other and Marcellus, they work through.

If you detect a bit of snideness to this description, that would be accurate. The reveals of the mysteries of Tova and Cameron's past trauma are extremely pat and predictable. However, the scenery is pleasant, the CGI sterling, and Newman's brisk pacing never lets us focus too closely on the many improbabilities of the plot. Remarkably Bright Creatures' supporting cast makes the film a good hang. In what could have been token roles, romantic foils for the two leads, Sofia Black-D'Elia and Colm Meaney both display great charm and skill. It is certainly nice to see Mr. Meaney, who has played a host of villains and boors in a long career,  shine in an appealing role. The fact that his character is a Deadhead portrayed for once without cliché is an added bonus even to someone like me who has never cottoned to Jerry Garcia and company. Tova's female friends, who are self-dubbed the "Knit-Wits" and include Joan Chen and Beth Grant. are an amusing flibbertigibbet Greek chorus. Their standout is Kathy Baker, at the end of a career that has not matched her talent, who gets to tell Tova to snap out of her funk in the film's best monologue.  

The presence of Sally Field often elicits a diabetic reaction from critics and sophisticated audiences. First, the legacies of Gidget and The Flying Nun had to be overcome. Even when she won two Oscars, Field's plain Jane sincerity ("You like me, you like me") brought more ridicule than respect. In the long run though, I believe she has given as many great screen performances as Meryl Streep. It is a testament to Ms. Fields' talent and Ms. Newman's touch that Tova never seems ridiculous even when addressing an octopus. Ms. Newman also brings out heretofore unexploited aspects of Lewis Pullman's capabilities. His warmth and ingratiating awkwardness here bode well for his future.