Why Nebraska is Not as Depressing as it Looks

I've never thought of Nebraska as a particularly magical place. For one, it's the ninth least populated state in the US. I think they grow a lot of corn there? I'm not entirely sure.  Like most of the middle parts of the country,  Nebraska is merely a pit stop on the way to some infinitely more interesting place.

But it's also the setting for Alexander Payne's latest Oz meets Cervantes addition to his brilliant body of work.

Three minutes, Macgruber!

The premise for Nebraska is deceptively simple. Prickly old alcoholic Woody Grant (Bruce Dern, in an Oscar-worthy performance) thinks he's won a million dollars in a sweepstakes and wants to go to Lincoln, Nebraska to collect his winnings. After some convincing, his sort-of-a-loser son David (Will Forte, the guy who played MacGruber),  agrees to drive him. Everyone knows that it's a scam, except for Woody himself, who believes with an almost religious fervor that the money is his to collect. "Why would they say that if it wasn't true?" he asks so earnestly that your heart actually aches for him.

The two men wind up in Hawthorne for the better part of the film, the small Nebraska town where Woody grew up. And, of course, their journey is ultimately more about their own relationship than it is about the prize at the end.

Forget Gosling, Bruce Dern is a real lady killer in this one.

There are many times when the film ventures into predictable territory, but Dern plays Woody with a tremendous sensibility that never fails to be compelling. It's not only his rambling gait and his hunched over posture, but his eyes, which perfectly capture that wide-open, almost child-like naivety that often returns to humans in the twilight of their life. Like Don Quixote, he believes his own delusions so whole-heartedly that, much like the town of Hawthorne, it's easy to get swept up in them. And it's damn near impossible not to root for him, even with all of his obvious flaws. 

Shooting the movie in black and white was, I imagine, a huge risk. But it's a risk that ultimately pays off. It lends the grim, Midwestern atmosphere a haunted, apocalyptic vibe. Particularly in Hawthorne, you feel like you are staring into the ruins of some long forgotten civilization. This isn't a thriving culture, but a way of life that is dying out forever. As Woody tours the house where he grew up, with his two sons and his smack-talking wife, he might as well be leading a tour through a particularly decrepit museum. 

This is exactly what my house looks like on most holidays, plaid and all.

It would get unbearable after a while, if it didn't lead into one of the greatest pay-offs of any movie that I've seen this year. 

Alexander Payne's last film, The Descendants, was full of vibrant colors, beautiful Hawaiian beachscapes, and charming ukulele music (as well as a thoroughly depressing story about a man taking his wife off of life support- but you know). I can't imagine a less likely follow-up than the bleak visuals of Nebraska. But Payne is one of this generations most effortless directors, oscillating back and forth from uproarious humor to quiet devastation. Nebraska has plenty of both. And, at any rate, the film itself is never as bleak as it's stark black and white visuals would suggest. This is ultimately a story about redemption and it's a good one which culminates in the most thrilling, slow-moving truck ride through a Midwestern town that I have ever seen.