We tend to repress the bad things that have happened to us in
our youth. When we call up our memories, we recollect so much
that was heavenly, so much to indicate that life is a miracle, that
we think we are in a magic kingdom--like Atlantis. This is, more
or less, what Ted Brautigan (Anthony Hopkins) tells us as he
sadly adds that life's being what it is, our hearts would soon
break in two. Mr. Hopkins plays his role so convincingly that
while we never see him as he was fifty years ago, he comes
across in part as a loving person but mostly as a man who has
seen all too much of life (in fact his eyes are failing him now): his
demeanor is somber throughout. "Hearts in Atlantis" is a coming-
of-age tale focusing on humankind's eleventh summer when we
have not yet lost our curiosity and fertile imaginations and have
perhaps experienced our first kiss. That kiss is the one we'll
remember all our lives, in Ted's prescient words.
In adapting Scott Hicks's movie to the screen, William Goldman
("Boy and Girls Together") exorcises some of novelist Stephen
King's supernatural themes to concentrate on the human drama--
which constitutes, after all, the best particular about the Maine
resident's writing. "Hearts" opens on a melancholy Robert
Garfield (David Morse), who has just learned that his best friend
from way back, Sully (Will Rothhaar) has died and, even worse,
the adorable girl friend of his youth with whom he had shared a
first kiss, Carol Gerber (Mika Boorem), has passed away as well.
While the adult Garfield frames the story, the bulk of the film
deals with Bobby Garfield (Anton Yelchin) as an eleven-year-old
kid, an enthusiastic, intelligent and happy boy whose life appears
impoverished only because his mother, Elizabeth (Hope Davis)
cannot afford to get him the Schwinn bicycle he admires since his
dad had died the year before leaving only a pile of bills.
"Hearts in Atlantis" appears to ask us whether an adult we had
come across in our pre-teen days, whether a teacher, a
neighbor, or even a sports personality that we know from afar,
has affected us so much that our lives have been permanently
changed for the better. Ted Brautigan is such a person for
Bobby, a strange person with psychic powers who becomes a
border in the dilapidated Connecticut home of the Garfields, who
pays the boy a dollar a week to read the newspapers to him and
therefore arouses the suspicions of Bobby's not-too-trusting
mother. Scott Hicks, whose masterful achievement "Shine"
deals as well with a prodigy who is being smothered by an
overbearing parent but who finds his first love, directs this work
with a sure hand, allowing the brilliant Anthony Hopkins to find
the sadness in Ted's character while gaining some delight as a
mentor to an impressionable young man. Anton Yelchin as the
eleven-year-old appears not at all intimidated playing next to this
legendary performer, evoking both the bliss of a kid who
discovers love for the first time (and ultimately that Schwinn bike
as well) but has his heart broken in the midst of his existence in
his metaphorical Atlantis. The production is a lovely one, quietly
moving, respectful enough of its audience to deal discretely with
a scene of violence involving Elizabeth while stressing inner
conflict over external strife. The period is evoked subtly: "The
Lone Ranger" plays on TV, the Platters dominate the
phonograph. Photographer Piotr Sobocinski elicits the feel of the
golden age of both young Bobby and the aging Ted with sepia
tones. A formulaic Hollywood ending is avoided in favor of a
more realistic and sober assessment of the lives of people who
learn to confront their fears, appreciate the moment, and
perceive life as both a series of routine exercises and the shock
of striking moments.
Copyright © 2001 Harvey Karten