Film offers look at an alternative lifestyle that few could follow
Early in "Off The Map," Arlene Grodin, an incredibly centered Earth Mother type, tells a wide-eyed newcomer, "New Mexico has a powerful effect on some people when they first get here."
Joan Allen plays the film's earth mother
in 'Off The Map.'
The power of the land is a key element to whether "Off the Map" will work for you. As photographed by Juan Ruiz Anchia, the land conveys a subtle aura of strength and eternal power; there's a timeless quality to it, and in watching the film I could feel a bit of its allure taking hold. Not that I thought the scenery was particularly beautiful, but there was a reality to it, and I could see how some people could live in such a place and ask nothing more of life. Some people claim that certain places have intrinsic magic in them, and this could be one of those places. If you feel you are immune to this idea, then "Off the Map" will probably simply be boring to you. On the other hand, perhaps the magic of a place derives mainly from the attitude with which one views it.
"Off The Map" is the story of one unique family that abandoned almost everything the modern world holds as important. Moving to a piece of land that is literally in the middle of nowhere, they get by on a veteran pension and the money they get for their dried flowers. Their food supply is mostly grown in their garden or what they can hunt.
The story is bookended by a young woman, Bo Grodin, recalling her younger days in the early 1970s growing up on the ranch. Even as a child, she was well aware of the power of the land, but nevertheless she was understandably often lonely and bored, dreaming of the wide world beyond the ranch. Her memories in the film are of a summer when her father, Charley, is inexplicably stricken with a paralyzing depression.
Wise with a common sense beyond her years, Young Bo and Arlene easily pick up the slack and handle all the problems with easy grace, and when an agent from the Internal Revenue Service arrives to audit the family (their almost total lack of income sets off alarm bells) the family is still so grounded and real that the agent quickly falls under their spell and the spell of the land and quits his job to move into a renovated bus on the family's property.
The film is a wonderful actor's showcase with several interesting roles, and the cast achieves a fabulous rapport. No one can be said to be the star of the film; it's ensemble work, and each actor works in support of the other. Allen, usually cast in more WASPish roles, conveys Arlene's calm center well, but also shows an interesting side; she's not above using her charms to unfair advantage on the men who are naturally attracted to her. Still, there is never any question as to where her loyalties lie. Sam Elliott, that most quietly unswaggering macho of actors, spends much of the film mute and almost helpless in his depression; still, he also manages to convey the more self-assured, quietly powerful man lying dormant beneath the numbing depression.
J.K. Simmons provides a hint of that power with his stoic turn as George, the family's staunchly loyal friend and ex-Korean war vet pal of Charley. Jim True-Frost as William Gibbs, the IRS agent, reminded me of Bill Pullman, and unfortunately I had that background thought buzzing around in my head throughout the movie. Still he convincingly portrays his character's transformation from depressed IRS agent to obsessed artist. And Valentina de Angelis acquits herself well as Young Bo, considering that her part is occasionally overwritten; sometimes she does or says things that just don't ring true; She's just that step too insightful and wise. Even the worldliest of 12 year olds is still something of a dork.
Bo is 11 or 12, living on the cusp between inventing childish games to amuse herself (she's a master at it) and adult ambitions. Perhaps the problem is that her ambitions are too adult. Teen ambitions are confusing enough, and teens can go through many personas before settling on the person they will finally become. Bo, however, when not acting like a child, seems to have by-passed the teen years altogether and gone straight to being the oldest person in the room.
The problem with Bo — the inconsistent tone — is the problem of the film as well. It becomes obvious early in the film that it was written for the stage, and though the film is not "stagebound" in the sense of having that "filmed play" feel, it still unfolds at times exactly the way it would on a stage; sometimes a character will speak just a little too long while other actors look for some business to do while the speaker delivers his or her speech. Characters, especially Gibbs, are also too prone to the big "self-revelation" so common to the stage. As I learned later, "Off the Map" does indeed have it's origin's on the stage, and the screenplay is written by the playwright Joan Ackermann. I think it could be a pretty good play, but in transferring their work to the screen, playwrights need to be willing to kill some of their clever writing and trust that the visual medium that is cinema can pick up the extra workload.
But the benefits of "Off the Map" far outweigh the negatives. I don't expect it will be to everyone's taste, but if you are open to films that explore all facets of the human experience, then I think you will find the film richly satisfying. It is one of those films that some people might even find to be a life-altering experience. It is built around a central question that could be one of the most important facing the world today: How much do you need to really make you happy? Have you ever thought about it? What is the bare minimum you need to keep you satisfied? We're not talking about what is needed to sustain life in a bare-bones subsistence; the key to the question is that after you make the tally, it might not seem like you have much, yet still, you are happy.
The Grodin family gets by on almost nothing, and yet it's difficult to quantify just what, if anything, they are lacking. As Gibbs tells Charley, their house is paid for, they've got two years food stored up, mostly grown and canned themselves, they take what they need from the land, or scavenge an amazing amount of treasure from the dump. "I think you're a genius," Gibbs says with deep admiration.
Like the family it depicts, "Off the Map" ignores many of the conceptual ideas of what constitutes a modern movie, but it is entertaining if you are willing to let it work some of its magic on you.