My Left Foot (1989)

If not for the Oscar-winning performance by Daniel Day-Lewis, I probably would not have felt inclined to watch My Left Foot; the at first glance cookie-cutter tale about how one savant overcomes his unfortunate condition to make something of his life is so played out, even movies themselves with little merit (Tropic Thunder) are justified in taking potshots at the genre. At best these films get by on their lovable characters in unusual situations that otherwise mask their overt adherence to genre conventions (Forrest Gump, Rainman) and at worst are over-rated pieces of mediocrity that bank on our sentimentality (A Beautiful Mind). Jim Sheridan's My Left Foot is the happy exception, neither preachy or idealistic, My Left Foot tells a familiar tale with riveting honesty, obvious passion and utter devotion.

My Left Foot tells the tale of Christy Brown, who was able to overcome is physical affliction to become a novelist and artist by utilizing his only workable appendage (can you guess what it is?). The film follows Brown's life from birth into adulthood, explaining how he came to be such a lauded figure.

Sheridan's arresting drama is best known for the virtuoso performance by its lead. Day-Lewis's take on the cerebral palsy stricken Irishman Christy Brown is certainly nothing if not perfect (never have I felt so devastated watching someone drink from a straw), but it's unfortunate that history has chosen to let Lewis's performance overshadow the many merits ofMy Left Foot. The film is full of rich, honest performances, Home Alone 2's Bird Lady, Brenda Fricker was recognized by the Academy for her role as Christy's mother, but I was particularly taken by Ray McAnally's performance as Mr. Brown. The role allows McAnally to explore all the emotions you'd expect for a father in Mr. Brown's situation; disappointed, confusion, pride, anger, jubilation, despair, and all with just the right level on intensity.

Jim Sheridan is also criminally overlooked for this film (he was robbed at the Oscars, the best director award instead going to...Oliver Stone). The images are at times breath-taking, featuring some of the most effective POV shots I can recall having seen, as well as some striking, Kubrickesque hand-held takes which no doubt influenced what has now become one of Hollywood's most overused tricks. My Left Foot, though offering few surprises, is extremely well executed in all areas of production (I even had Elmer Bernstein's theme stuck in my head for a day after I saw it) and deserves the opportunity to be re-examined so that it may take its place as one of the best films of the eighties (modestly put). A

Other semi-related thoughts:

-Kind of have less respect for Forrest Gump now. It even took the whole narrative within a narrative concept from this film.

-Everyone else gave really great performances too. Especially Hugh O'Connor as the young Brown.

-It seems at times that Day-Lewis is just doing a superb insulting imitation of a mentally retarded person, making me wonder if my friend Bo could win an Oscar. Not to take anything away from his performance though (he broke 2 ribs and was so committed to the role that he was fed by friends in his wheelchair when the crew broke to eat.)

-My Left Foot, whose ankle I rolled playing basketball last year, was very uncomfortable for most of the movie. Watching him just pick things up and drag his body with his foot...jeez.