In HERE, directed by Robert Zemeckis and co-written with Eric Roth, we’re invited into what’s meant to be a quaint, homey tale about a plot of land and the generations that call it home. Based on the graphic novel by Richard McGuire, the movie places us in the POV of sitting in a theater seat, watching several acts of family stories that are interconnected by a house throughout its many eras. It’s a strong concept, yet even with a cast loaded with talent like Tom Hanks, Robin Wright, Paul Bettany, and Kelly Reilly, HERE struggles to be anything more than experimental.
To be more direct: it’s sweet, but more than that, it’s corny, visually wonky, and weirdly detached. The actors seem to know it, too. Their performances come across as spoofs of the material rather than living it. Neither the slices of life nor the sentimentality work, and you start to wonder why you’re there. The movie can’t answer that for you—other than as an opportunity to play with form. Even the lighting is off, with sun and moonlight that seem hours behind or ahead of whatever is happening inside the room. It’s a visual disconnect that adds to the overall off-kilter feeling. As an audience, we don’t connect.
Adding to my dismay, an Indigenous couple and a Black family are included, but only seem to be there to earn a representation badge. Their roles are minimal, lacking depth beyond their identities and contextualizing the COVID-19 pandemic.
However, there is a highlight. The story of a 1920s bohemian flapper, played by Ophelia Lovibond, and her inventor husband, David Fynn, brings out the charm the rest of the movie lacks. Their vignettes are frothy and fascinating, and we could’ve used more of them to lessen the drudgery of our time in the theater.
Ultimately, HERE might have found a better home as a Christmas or Holiday special on a streaming platform. Or, better, as an Americana exhibit at the Smithsonian National Museum of American History, brought to life alongside cultural icons like Norman Rockwell, Little Orphan Annie, and Nicholas Sparks novels. The movie has enough nostalgic product placement to solidify its historical context—McDonald’s, Canada Dry, La-Z-Boy—okay, we see you.
In the end, I’ll borrow a quote from Gertrude Stein. When it comes to HERE, “there is no there there.” It’s a shame because, otherwise, the cast and the concept might have made a cozy Holiday tale.
