To Maya Jane Hiller

About a year and a half ago I voiced a complaint on this website.  My gripe with Hollywood was the lack of films about (not simply featuring) good and decent fathers, when every other weekend there was a new release centered on some wonderful mother bonding with child. Not taking anything away from the estrogen set, but are men not half the parenting community? Kind of a raw deal for the millions of devoted dads who like movies. Well, we can add Spanglish to the short list of “father” films, which includes Kramer v. Kramer and a Steve Martin movie (no, not the inane Father of the Bride which bastardizes fatherhood, but rather Ron Howard’s Parenthood which celebrates it).

I believe based on the advertising campaign for Spanglish most moviegoers would be confused as to its premise and surprised, after seeing it, by its content. As one friend of mine put it – it comes off in the commercials as the classic James (Terms of Endearment) Brooks schmaltzfest about a Spanish nanny who teaches a high-strung American family the importance of some highfalutin value system or another. Let me tell you then that not only is the advertising woefully misleading (and to the film’s detriment), and that the first ten minutes of the film act as equally potent deterrent – but then something astonishing happens. 

We begin amid a narrative taken from an admissions essay to an Ivy League school. The writing style is juvenile and simplistic, the kind that would only be impressive if this were a cheesy feel good movie, which it appears to be.  From there things get progressively worse. Brooks begins to build a foundation of what can be described as the white man’s view of Latin culture. A strong feisty hot tamale of a woman raises her daughter alone in Mexico and comes to America to build a better life, but its all done in broad stereotypical strokes, with our heroine, Paz Vega, simply being told to act like the more well known (and presumably acceptable) import Penelope Cruz (although Vega is far more beautiful and enchanting). Yes, she, in her foreign earthy innocence and purity is quietly (and sometimes not so quietly) appalled by brash American gaudiness and straightforwardness, our brutish uncouth arrogance. White people think and act like they own Mister and Missus Minority despite their best intentions to be politically correct. It is as if Brooks is trying to validate himself and his culture by showing how he appreciates how offensive we are (and at the same time by taking advantage of the Latino boom in this country). In short, the movie opens with a deafening thud, a callous attempt at a social commentary.

But as if by magic, a door opens and in pops the lovably Jewish mug of Adam Sandler, an actor blooming before our eyes. Sandler brightens the entire screen and serves as an anchor so inspired and in touch with the performance and theme, that he carries an okay film to the point of making it somewhat great.  His wife, played by a committed Tea Leoni, appears lost without him on screen to balance her performance. Alone, she is an over the top caricature, but with Adam to ground her work, she settles in and together they provide some of the most poignant husband/wife interactions to come from a studio picture in a long time (including a daring and comically edgy love scene).

At its heart, the movie is simply about family. Forget Spanish and English or whatever combination the two make, that is simply a plot device to keep things light and moving. The complex relationships between parents and children, husbands and wives, and those things and people that sometimes distract and cloud those relationships is at the center of this nicely scripted, well acted film. But if family is the heart of the movie, Sandler is the aorta (or left ventricle – or something else important in the heart), because Spanglish is one for the fathers.  The fathers who love their kids so much it mystifies them. The fathers who suck it up after a day at work and play with their kids and get abused by their wives. The fathers who provide more than just the financial support, but the emotional support as well. Yes, they do exist people! 

To appreciate Spanglish and find the beauty inside, which I assure you there is much of, I would agree that layers need to be peeled back and Brooks’ occasional melodramatic pratfalls need to be, well, overlooked. It's not that a good film should need our forgiveness for its sins, it's because Spanglish gets so much better with time, and has such sweet courageous moments and plot points that it would be a shame to let a sorry opening and some manipulatively saccharine “drama” to spoil the bigger picture. Like Brooks’ recent winner As Good as it Gets, the issues grow more real (sometimes shockingly so) as the film progresses, and it does compensate enough to make the experience as a whole worthwhile and moving. It also makes the shameful mistakes all the more shameful. Regardless, the film is sweet and it comes recommended. Maybe I’m just being giving because it's the holiday season, or maybe it’s because I think Sandler is a one of a kind, or perhaps it is because last Thursday for the second time I was  blessed to become a father and Spanglish makes me very proud to be one.