IIt may be that many of us are still floating in our stupor of well-being, eager to feed the self for as long as possible after a four-year fall into a bottomless emotional and psychological well. It is neither positivity nor hope that we are clinging to, but the ability to feel anything in normal ways again – to regret, to regret, to feel everything, from anger to relief and, yes, even joy.
We may not have even realized that for four years we have been holding our breath. It was only after we exhaled that we realized that all these feelings were ready to be poured out, the good, the bad and all the intermediaries. It’s a lot of feeling to do! It is exhausting, but also intoxicating.
And in that buzz is the new drama starring Justin Timberlake Palmer, and its themes of tolerance, redemption, empathy and the celebration of otherness.
It is comforting cinematic food in a rare and belated banquet moment for sincerity, kindness and reminders that little sparks of humanity still exist. Palmer is, with regard to those things in the world of art and cinema, genetically modified to force you to … er, I mean I left you – feel things.
In the film, which will be released Friday on Apple TV +, Timberlake plays a former convict named Eddie Palmer, who after completing 12 years for a crime, returns to his hometown in the southern countryside to live with his grandmother, Vivian (June Squibb, iconic as always), who created it. Living in a trailer next door is a single mother (Juno Temple) and her 7-year-old son Sam (newcomer Ryder Allen). Palmer looks out the window at them, watching the mother and son playing with dolls, and raises an eyebrow.
Palmer is surprised to find Sam at home. His mother left – not for the first time – and, as she had done before, Vivian welcomes him. They eat together and go to church together. Vivian lets Sam fix her hair and play with her makeup. Sam doesn’t care about his behavior, even around Palmer. “You know you’re a boy, right? Boys don’t play with dolls, ”says Palmer. “Well, I’m a boy, and I am,” Sam shrugs in response.
When Vivian tragically dies in sleep, one night, Palmer is responsible for looking after Sam. You would think that the two would conflict immediately. But Palmer sees the ways in which the community, both children and adults, intimidate Sam because of his unwavering confidence in himself for wanting to proudly dress like a princess and have tea with the girls at school. Palmer becomes a staunch advocate for Sam, and the kind of father figure a boy like that desperately needs.
Guys, you will never believe this: they save each other.
The best thing about Palmer is that you’ve seen it before. it is Big Daddy, but seriously. it is About a boy, but the boy is gay. I can’t talk about how aware the filmmakers, including director Fisher Stevens and screenwriter Cheryl Guerriero, were of that formula, but the film is even better for not deviating from it, reaching every familiar beat with the precision of the strings pulled on the score guitar that you can hear just because I describe this movie.
This loosens all the repressed emotions mentioned above and allows them to spread with all the strength of a fire department: a deluge of cathartic appreciation for Sam’s struggle, Palmer’s selflessness and his courage to face the rugged road ahead in a society.
You will cry and feel good about it. You will be proud of your empathy and your ability to work. That little boy Sam doesn’t deserve a hard life just because he likes feminine things and lives in a city full of homophobes! It is a film that works like a pat on the back for your target audience, and there is the small problem.
The message is irrefutable. Timberlake, to his credit, is excellent, a triumphant return to a promising acting career that at one point seemed unsteady. Allen as Sam is a revelation. Palmer it is so assistable that you hardly need to pay much attention and still reap all the emotional benefits. But it’s this thing where I legitimately loved a movie that I’m not sure I’m happy that exists.
In addition to the work “unlikely parental figure for a lost child”, there is another increasingly familiar genre that Palmer belongs to: the emotionally manipulative Oscar bait, in which a retired homophobe turns into a gay savior. In other words, well-intentioned films that don’t step too much, but abuse, the fine line between human insight and the exploration of queer pain.
It is a complicated tension to discuss and there are no easy answers on how to tell these stories, or even if they are stories that should be told.
Although it is a much superior film, there are notes of Palmer that are reminiscent of Joe Bell, the Mark Wahlberg drama that debuted at the Toronto International Film Festival this fall, but has recently been dropped from the release schedule for a date yet to be defined later this year. There are also echoes of Fall, the next film written, directed and starring Viggo Mortensen about a gay son who acknowledges his father’s abusive homophobia when his old age begins to close the window of opportunity for closure.
“It is a complicated tension to discuss and there are no easy answers on how to tell these stories, or even if they are stories that should be told.“
Both films are emotionally strenuous stories about tortured but evolving relationships between unwilling parents and their gay children, and the scars that endure from such an intense bond. Both have the potential to open their eyes to complicated conversations about sexuality and masculinity that can do great good for the public.
But both films also get into the conversation about who should be telling the stories of those who are marginalized and underrepresented. Nor does it satisfy those who are tired of watching the struggle for queer acceptance filtered through the journeys of direct characters and crafted by creative teams. This should not totally disregard any of your creative achievements, but it is a valid consideration.
How to do Palmer enter the photo?
Sam is 7 years old. His sexuality is not discussed, obviously – again, he is 7 years old. But gender identity and expression are at the root of their relationship with all the characters in the film, and especially with Palmer. Those who attack him are portrayed as intolerant. But Sam’s journey, although it is Palmer’s own catalyst, is secondary to him. It is again a film centered on the redemption of the cis character.
This in itself is becoming a kind of trope.
Where before the juicy role of a heterosexual actor was to play the persecuted queer person, now it is the character who has a crisis of conscience about his role in the persecution that is attractive. It is an evolution in the identity politics of choosing queer roles, but it still raises the question of the value of this type of narrative.
This is assumed to be a pleasant thing when, in fact, at least in some ways, it is causing harm. I can’t tell you how inspiring it is to see Justin Timberlake play a tough guy who becomes completely in love and accepted by a boy who doesn’t conform to the genre. It means something – a lot, really – to have a father figure in the film supporting a child with that whole heart. But the abuse that Palmer witnesses, and the public witnesses, is unleashing, in no way perpetuating and normalizing these things.
It never hurts to reiterate how complicated all this is. Sam is a heroic character, and it is so refreshing to see him present with unbridled confidence, regardless of gender norms. But he is also infallible. It is impossible not to worship, precocious and kind-hearted. It has to be in order for a story like that to work. Perfection is still necessary to balance otherness, if the public wants to embark.
It is beautiful to see the ways in which Palmer and different people in the community support and stimulate Sam’s interest and identity. He is having a healthier education than most, who is constantly silenced, corrected or abused. When you get older, away from home and proud of a support system, you are famous for your fascination with divas, princesses and beautiful things. But what if we give children, boys, the same permission? What if playing with Barbies wasn’t illegal, a cause for shame?
These questions can be raised in this film, but only because of Palmer’s own heroic compassion.
The idea of a savior requires someone who needs to be saved. This lack of agency, even in a story as cheerful as this, is a continuation of decades of Hollywood’s noxious tropes in which strangeness and gender identity are used as props.
I have no doubt that if you made it this far, you are a person who will be moved by this film. And I’m happy. It was good to watch this movie and feel good inside, feel good about a better future full of Palmers and Sams.
The fact that the film is so easy to like and emotionally affected is why it also deserves such scrutiny. And the most valuable thing he can do is invite you to a conversation, I hope it starts.