Leave it to Mother
One of the season's best pictures, The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio ought to be seen by anyone either struggling through, or bracing for, hard times. Putting a subtle touch on a classic American archetype—the industrious suburban housewife—writer and director Jane Anderson practically makes you want to clip coupons.
Actress Julianne Moore is aces again as the housewife—and mother of (gulp) ten children—to Woody Harrelson's drunken brute in the middle of Ohio. Miss Moore casts her spell in longing glances and in her warm embrace of a reality-based character, Evelyn Ryan, whose productivity saved her family from ruin. The story, based on daughter Terry Ryan's 2001 book, is both quirky and simple.
With lilting rhymes celebrating commercialism and a sunny sense of life, Mrs. Ryan enters jingle contests in a practice called "contesting" during the 1950s. With so many boys and girls to feed, clothe and house, and with a no-good husband (Harrelson), the bright young mother pursues happiness by firing off catchy ditties—which were all the rage on the emerging media, television—to pay the bills. Mom is a good writer, a point the picture builds up to, and so she wins a lot of contests. (The songs are swell).
Between prizes, which range from a new icebox to money for a new house, ten kids takes a toll on the family's budget, and it doesn't help that the breadwinner puts his paycheck into bottles of booze. Miss Moore's gee-whiz Mom keeps the kids brimming with enthusiasm for life, but Harrelson's alcoholic, who, like any addict, has his reasons, is belligerent when drunk. He explodes during a sports game, putting everyone on pins and needles, and Anderson captures the unique terror of living with alcoholism and the lesser-known fact that it can be survived. In an important scene, mother and a child who is afraid to enter the beast's chamber work around the monster. It's a lesson for the whole family.
But writer and director Anderson is not interested in scoring points against deadbeat dads, and Prize Winner is nothing if not about putting the function into the dysfunctional family, reminding the crybaby within to buck up, stop whining and focus on winning. Of course, that goes only so far, and Miss Moore captures the limits of "contesting" with fortitude, especially in a shattering scene of domestic disturbance.
The trouble does not last long—Anderson clocks in at different speeds—and before you can say "I'm a Pepper," Mom's typing another jingle, winning another contest and teaching the kids about caviar and a life beyond the drudgery. The movie is sprinkled with narration and song, and it zips along at a brisk pace that doesn't dwell on hardship; it is enough to know it's there.
She wins, he loses and the kids are alright. Miss Moore's rosy-dressed happy homemaker faces the reality of her plain life, making the most of it—aided by a sisterhood of values—and accepting her children's independence as evidence of her good motherhood, through the family's voice of reason, a tomboy name Tuff. One of the movie's rare strengths is its deep respect for the essence of the era's appeal—that the good is possible—even as it gently mocks Fifties' conformity.
Surely, and not coincidentally in postwar America, there were countless of these women, suffocating under traditionalism and without men worthy of looking up to. This picture is about them, and the children that they, not their husbands, raised.
The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio, displayed with impeccable period detail, has its flaws. Harrelson is too menacing as a father who is less evil than pathetic. Ten kids don't just pop like Jiffy—it takes two to wind up with too many mouths to feed—Mrs. Ryan's culpability in her marital problems is also forgiven too easily, and a villainous milkman makes a lot of sense. So does the movie, which indulges in the best of the 1950s and demonstrates the transcendent power of being productive.
DVD Notes
The finely crafted The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio is better a second time, deserving a long, rich life on DVD. With two audio commentaries—by writer and director Jane Anderson and leading actress Julianne Moore—the disc is doubly good.
Anderson's track is like gold, with fabulous stories about the real-life Ryan family, not just insider production tales, and she illuminates the period, the story and how the movie's self-reliant theme helped her overcome her own cynicism about Hollywood. Miss Moore's comments are also good, as she compliments photographer Jonathan Freeman's excellent work and rightly points to her character's realism—not blind duty—as the motive power of her motherhood; she aimed to raise ten smart, independent children.
Anderson gently captures the singularly shameful experience of living in an alcoholic home—and how to remove the residue with an optimism that is uniquely American. As one of this gem's executive producers, Robert Zemeckis, told Anderson, according to her commentary: "pain is inevitable—suffering is an option."
Separate commentary tracks enhance a thoughtfully created movie. During her presentation, Anderson fondly points out that the picture's business-sponsored jingle contests, unlike today's sweepstakes, rewarded wit, not chance. The same can certainly be said of this sharp, bittersweet and thoroughly original movie.
Actress Julianne Moore is aces again as the housewife—and mother of (gulp) ten children—to Woody Harrelson's drunken brute in the middle of Ohio. Miss Moore casts her spell in longing glances and in her warm embrace of a reality-based character, Evelyn Ryan, whose productivity saved her family from ruin. The story, based on daughter Terry Ryan's 2001 book, is both quirky and simple.
With lilting rhymes celebrating commercialism and a sunny sense of life, Mrs. Ryan enters jingle contests in a practice called "contesting" during the 1950s. With so many boys and girls to feed, clothe and house, and with a no-good husband (Harrelson), the bright young mother pursues happiness by firing off catchy ditties—which were all the rage on the emerging media, television—to pay the bills. Mom is a good writer, a point the picture builds up to, and so she wins a lot of contests. (The songs are swell).
Between prizes, which range from a new icebox to money for a new house, ten kids takes a toll on the family's budget, and it doesn't help that the breadwinner puts his paycheck into bottles of booze. Miss Moore's gee-whiz Mom keeps the kids brimming with enthusiasm for life, but Harrelson's alcoholic, who, like any addict, has his reasons, is belligerent when drunk. He explodes during a sports game, putting everyone on pins and needles, and Anderson captures the unique terror of living with alcoholism and the lesser-known fact that it can be survived. In an important scene, mother and a child who is afraid to enter the beast's chamber work around the monster. It's a lesson for the whole family.
But writer and director Anderson is not interested in scoring points against deadbeat dads, and Prize Winner is nothing if not about putting the function into the dysfunctional family, reminding the crybaby within to buck up, stop whining and focus on winning. Of course, that goes only so far, and Miss Moore captures the limits of "contesting" with fortitude, especially in a shattering scene of domestic disturbance.
The trouble does not last long—Anderson clocks in at different speeds—and before you can say "I'm a Pepper," Mom's typing another jingle, winning another contest and teaching the kids about caviar and a life beyond the drudgery. The movie is sprinkled with narration and song, and it zips along at a brisk pace that doesn't dwell on hardship; it is enough to know it's there.
She wins, he loses and the kids are alright. Miss Moore's rosy-dressed happy homemaker faces the reality of her plain life, making the most of it—aided by a sisterhood of values—and accepting her children's independence as evidence of her good motherhood, through the family's voice of reason, a tomboy name Tuff. One of the movie's rare strengths is its deep respect for the essence of the era's appeal—that the good is possible—even as it gently mocks Fifties' conformity.
Surely, and not coincidentally in postwar America, there were countless of these women, suffocating under traditionalism and without men worthy of looking up to. This picture is about them, and the children that they, not their husbands, raised.
The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio, displayed with impeccable period detail, has its flaws. Harrelson is too menacing as a father who is less evil than pathetic. Ten kids don't just pop like Jiffy—it takes two to wind up with too many mouths to feed—Mrs. Ryan's culpability in her marital problems is also forgiven too easily, and a villainous milkman makes a lot of sense. So does the movie, which indulges in the best of the 1950s and demonstrates the transcendent power of being productive.
DVD Notes
The finely crafted The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio is better a second time, deserving a long, rich life on DVD. With two audio commentaries—by writer and director Jane Anderson and leading actress Julianne Moore—the disc is doubly good.
Anderson's track is like gold, with fabulous stories about the real-life Ryan family, not just insider production tales, and she illuminates the period, the story and how the movie's self-reliant theme helped her overcome her own cynicism about Hollywood. Miss Moore's comments are also good, as she compliments photographer Jonathan Freeman's excellent work and rightly points to her character's realism—not blind duty—as the motive power of her motherhood; she aimed to raise ten smart, independent children.
Anderson gently captures the singularly shameful experience of living in an alcoholic home—and how to remove the residue with an optimism that is uniquely American. As one of this gem's executive producers, Robert Zemeckis, told Anderson, according to her commentary: "pain is inevitable—suffering is an option."
Separate commentary tracks enhance a thoughtfully created movie. During her presentation, Anderson fondly points out that the picture's business-sponsored jingle contests, unlike today's sweepstakes, rewarded wit, not chance. The same can certainly be said of this sharp, bittersweet and thoroughly original movie.
