Have You Hugged Your Junebug Today?
So many movies about the “South” are saccharine fables (Steel Magnolias, for example) populated by actors employing the “generic Southern Hollywood” accent, which sounds like nowhere I’ve ever been but nevertheless manages to convince non-Southern viewers and reviewers alike.
Junebug is different. Its characters actually sound like they’re from Winston-Salem, North Carolina, where the movie was filmed (admittedly, I’m no expert, but I do visit family there every few years). This isn’t too surprising, when you learn that Junebug’s writer (Angus MacLachlan) and director (Phil Morrison) are both Winston-Salem natives. None of the main actors are Tarheels, but maybe the local extras helped to keep them on track with their accents.
With its main plot of “Southern boy returns home, bringing new, sophisticated wife along,” Junebug could easily fall into a city mouse-country mouse culture clash. But it doesn’t. Junebug avoids the stereotypical caricatures of Southerners that abound in other movies. You don’t get the sense that you’re supposed to be sneering at any of the characters. In fact, as soon as you start to feel scorn for anyone, the film presents you with a moment that makes you think twice.
For example, I started off with extreme dislike for Johnny, the younger son of the Johnsten family, who sulks around his parents’ house without lifting a finger to help them or his pregnant wife Ashley, to whom he always speaks in monosyllables. But then, during Ashley’s baby shower, while Johnny is in another room flipping through the TV channels, he sees the image of a meerkat pop across the screen. We know from one brief earlier comment that meerkats are Ashley’s favorite animal, and so I saw when Johnny lunging across the room and frantically trying to get the VCR to work, I actually shouted in relief, “He really does love her!” The moment becomes even more poignant as the VCR remains stubborn and Johnny starts yelling and cursing and banging on the machine, drawing Ashley in from the other room. Of course, he can’t admit that he was trying to record the meerkats for her, so she returns to her shower never knowing. Uf.
That’s one of the refreshing things about the movie: the members of the Johnsten family, Southern though they be, are handicapped in expressing love for each other, while the Chicago art dealer Madeline is touchy-feely and emotive. And all the characters change—not in any big dramatic way, but in tiny shifts. There’s just enough growth by the end of the film to leave you with hope—hope grounded in real, broken characters that you’ve learned to love.
Love is the best word I can think of to describe the attitude of the writer, director, and the actors towards these characters. My husband (whom I will henceforth refer to as “Porpoise”) and I were trying to figure out why we liked Junebug so much more than Lost in Translation, a similar film in some externals (quirkiness, cross-cultural conflict, loners who fail to connect with each other) but which, frankly, we hated. The best we could come up with is that the people involved in Junebug had an almost tangible love for their characters, whereas Lost in Translation seems to celebrate the artists’ “sophisticated” detachment from their characters.
Junebug is one of Beliefnet’s five nominees for Best Spiritual Film of 2005 (the criteria for the “spiritual” designation don’t seem to be explained anywhere on the site, but they seem to be rather broad). Currently, including my vote, Junebug only has 1% of the people’s vote. Waaaah! If you’ve seen Junebug, cast your ballot now!
Here are my reasons why Junebug should win:
1. Anytime I see artists (broken themselves, no doubt) this committed to loving broken characters, I see Christ’s love. During the movie, Ashley intones the evangelical-speak proverb “God loves you just the way you are, but he loves you too much to let you stay that way.” When she says it, it’s trite; when the characters live it out, even in the smallest of ways, it’s true.
2. The film has a matter-of-fact, neither sentimental nor sarcastic, portrayal of the role of faith in the lives of these people. When George (the returning Johnsten son) is asked to get up and sing a hymn at the church potluck (filmed at a Methodist church in Winston-Salem with the real congregation members as extras), he does so, beautifully and sincerely, even though you have the feeling he hasn’t been to church in a while. (By the way, Amy Sullivan has an insightful article on Junebug titled “Translating Between Red and Blue” in which she calls attention to George’s role as a cultural translator between “red” and “blue” America, a role he often tries to avoid. Sullivan writes, “The tensions and the misunderstandings in the movie . . . are what happen when those of us with dual red/blue citizenship fail to play a mediating role as translators and cultural ambassadors.” An interesting and relevant perspective, though not one I thought about as I watched the film.).
3. God surely has a preferential option for independent films (actually, I don’t believe that at all, but it’s fun to say).
P.S. If Junebug doesn’t win the Best Spiritual Film award, here’s hoping that Amy Adams picks up a Best Supporting Actress Oscar (see the list of nominees) for her portrayal of Ashley.
2 comments February 12th, 2006