I Am Sam (2001)
by Joe Steiff

Forest Gump meets Kramer vs. Kramer...

For all intents and purposes, I Am Sam wants to be the modern day Kramer vs. Kramer. You know, updated. Enlightened. Politically Correct. Relevant. So rather than proving that men (in general) can make good fathers (because we assume that now), the film decides that the real parenting issue confronting us today is whether or not retarded men can make good fathers.

If the filmmakers really wanted to make a custody battle film to echo our current zeitgeist in the way that Kramer vs. Kramer touched a nerve twenty-three years ago, you would think that they would have picked a gay parental rights custody battle. Maybe it's just as well they didn't.

Despite all their posturing and references to Kramer vs. Kramer, director Jessie Nelson and co-writer Kristine Johnson have ended up making a film "weepie" rather than any sort of thoughtful consideration on parenting or parental rights or the potential loss of parental rights. In other words, I Am Sam does not ask (much less answer) any of the tough questions or even acknowledge shades of gray in our assumptions of what makes a good parent. I guess for those hard-hitting issues, you'll need to turn to Ally McBeal or Boston Public.

On the one hand, you'd expect more from a director who has written several films about families and parents. With one glance at her filmography -- Stepmom, Corrina, Corrina and The Story of Us -- you quickly realize that complex family relationships are simply the canvas upon which she paints melodramas, families as emotional backdrops rather than complex content to be explored.

So what are we left with? For all the courtroom stuff, this is ultimately not about whether or not Sam (Sean Penn) should retain custody of his seven-year old daughter, Lucy Diamond (a quite good Dakota Fanning). More it seems to be about Sam's belief in himself and his impact on those around him.

In other words, once again (but in more literal terms than usual) we have a story where the "simpler" person is the better person. Don't become too sophisticated lest you end up like Sam's attorney Rita (Michelle Pfeiffer) who, lets face it, abuses her assistant, alienates her child and has an empty marriage.

You know what I'm talking about, sort of the Forest Gumping of life. Simpler is better. And to push the envelop, in this film, "simpler" is retarded.

The story glosses over numerous situations, any one of which could provide enough fodder for a feature-length film. We're not that far from the days when the sterilization of people with mental retardation and mental disabilities was considered (or at least debated). In fact we're not that far from the days of de-institutionalization.

But issues of Sam's independence, living arrangements and sexual behavior are basically ignored. There was a time when it was controversial for people with mental retardation to date each other, much less someone not retarded.

The woman Sam got pregnant does not seem to have any mental disability, though we barely see her. All we know is that she's a homeless woman who was sleeping on his couch for awhile, and right after the birth, she abandoned Sam and their little girl, Lucy Diamond. Did Sam love her? He's capable of sex, but is he capable of companionship? There is one brief (and uncomfortable) moment when the film seems about to enter into Tim territory. Rita's reaction (and very long hug) to Sam trying on one of her husband's suits seems little more than an attempt on the writers/director's' parts to say, "hey, see, it's possible he could get a woman pregnant, because he can be attractive." This is what passes for complexity in this script.

The film at no point asks us or even the characters around Sam to examine our/their own feelings or biases about retardation. Sam's retardation seems to be simply an obstacle on the writers' part to create drama, and as such Sam's situation is not really explored. The film's apparent goal to be a paint-by-numbers tear fest is partly why I would say this is a "weepie."

If you want to cry every ten to fifteen minutes, this film tries to take you there. Some viewers have found this manipulative and appalling. Personally, I'm okay with it. I like to cry as much as the next guy. Oh wait. Do guys cry? Oh yeah, sensitive guys who live simply do. Or jaded guys who hide that big marshmallow inside their chest. Anyway, I love a film that will make me feel. I just want the feelings to be deserved, and there's a lot about the film that seems whitewashed. The emotions seem too easily about surface machinations of the plot and have less to do with any real compassion for the dilemma faced (one hopes) by all of these characters. This is a situation so fraught with emotional content that I feel a little ripped off that so much of it stays on the surface.

This is not to say that I Am Sam is without its rewards.

If the story can't provide those, then that leaves the performances. And there are some nice ones here. Sean Penn has the unenviable task of inhabiting a character that echoes the kind of character Dustin Hoffman played in Rain Man. Sean Penn is an amazing actor and one of our more intriguing directors, and you know what, he does fine here. Is it his best performance? Probably not, but it's so great so see him acting, I can forgive it for seeming a bit forced here and there. Some moments are brilliant, such as his running down the street. Or at work, his complementing each customer's coffee selection as "excellent choice."

As for the women, each (Pfeiffer, Diane Wiest and Laura Dern) gets her own "big scene" in which she gets to emote and tear up and confront her inner demons -- Pfeiffer actually gets several. And all three women at various times struggle with trying to make Sam understand the subtext of the events or conversations around him, kind of ironic for a film that can't seem to get past its own text.

In many ways, this is Michelle Pfeiffer's film. Hers is the character who has to take a hard look at herself, who has to change. She does in fact gain more from her association with Sam than he does from his with her. Again, some of the moments seem forced, but there are several moments of sheer beauty in her performance.

Diane Wiest brings a pleasant warmth to a predictable character. In fact, up until her "what about your father" interrogation on the witness stand, I admired the film's restraint in handling her condition, including her arrival at court. Then of course, they blew it. But for a moment...

Of the three "big scenes," I am most impressed with Laura Dern. Her performance exudes the ambivalence of the material, and ultimately, I am most moved by her dilemma. Unfortunately, it's pretty much glossed over. But it is her "big scene" that brings the subtext to the surface: "Save me a seat on your side."

In fact, Dern's is the last big dramatic scene of the film, and she does it proud.

The best thing about the film is the ending. No, I don't mean that it ends. But literally, the ending. I love the fact that the film does not conclusively resolve. You can read the last images a number of ways, since all the major characters are, in effect, together. Who has custody of Lucy Diamond? The final shots seem to imply it doesn't really matter -- after spending two hours telling us how much it does. If ever there were a commercial for Hillary Clinton's It Takes a Village, this last scene is it.

Joe Steiff was a licensed social worker for twelve years before making his hobby (film) his career. He currently teaches at Columbia College Chicago's Department of Film & Video.

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