Real Life Takes Center Stage in 'One True Thing'

Nowadays, everything in the movies is big. "Size does matter," and "bigger is better" are the two mantras which drive every new flick churning out of Hollywood's blockbuster factory. Godzilla and Armaggedon are the obvious examples--but the trend is beginning to infiltrate the once safe genres. What Dreams May Come, for instance, opens in theaters today with a love story that crosses both heaven and hell in order to make audiences feel. Do we really need perpetual "eye candy" to tell a story? Or more importantly, can a pure human drama still affect us?

Leave it to Meryl Streep to quash all doubts. Her latest acting showcase, One True Thing, tells such an incredibly small story that it puts all the vast, sweeping movies of recent memory to shame. No giant sinking ships, no supernatural theatrics--One True Thing proves that the power of simple things can make for transcendent and arresting filmmaking.

The film, based on a novel by Pulitzer Prize winner Anna Quindlen, zeroes in on a single American family and manages to weave a stunningly intricate emotional epic. Ellen Gulden, played by Renee Zellweger, is a reporter for a Manhattan magazine leading the frenzied life of a normal New Yorker (the recent trends of female heroines working as magazine editors is starting to become both annoying and disturbing). The main narrative unfolds in flashback, as Ellen is being questioned by a district attorney about the possibility that she assisted in her cancer-stricken mother's death. Through her answers to the attorney's questions and the episodes which she recounts, we gradually begin to get a sense of the complex personality and wealth of insecurities that Ellen harbors.

As a young Harvard graduate, for instance, Ellen feels pressured to live up to the expectations of her National Book Award-winning father George (even though he went to Yale). William Hurt, as George, offers us an almost totally inaccessible character. But Hurt's approach is perfectly metered; he sheds layer and layer of his mannered front to reveal a self-involved man who tries desperately to live up to Ellen's expectations.

And then, of course, there is Meryl Streep as Ellen's mother Kate, who inhabits a world completely alien to Ellen. Kate's world revolves around the home; when she's not baking or quilting, she's joining other women in planning cheery town projects. But there's more to Kate than arts and crafts--she keeps the house running, the bills paid, and the food coming without the least bit of help from Ellen or George. And most importantly, she loves her domesticity. Kate simply lights up at the thought of keeping Ellen comfortable or working on a "mosaic table" that makes use of all the broken dish pieces. And, of course, with Streep in command, we truly believe that Kate loves her role as wife and mother unconditionally.

During Ellen's stay, however, she soon learns that her mother is facing a bout with cancer that has already spread. George asks her to return home to take care of her mother which she does, albeit grudgingly. Once in close proximity to Kate, however, Ellen's icy reserve begins to melt under her mother's sunshiny and loving presence. As Kate's health deteriorates, Ellen begins to realize how truly remarkable her mother is. "How do you do this?" she asks Kate, "without anyone ever knowing how hard it really is?"

One True Thing is such an emotionally complex film that it literally wears its audience down. In the hands of director Carl Franklin (One False Move, Devil in a Blue Dress), the movie achieves rich layers and dramatic tension solely because of character depth. Three separate stories--the connection between Kate and George, the evolving rapport of Kate and Ellen, the difficult relationship of Ellen and her father--weave together to create an endless array of emotional fireworks. Most impressively, Franklin's film transcends its simple narrative and makes the audience completely invest its emotions in the question of who exactly each character is.

But One True Thing wouldn't be more than a Hallmark TV movie-of-the-week if it weren't for the overwhelming performances of Zellwegger, Hurt and Streep. Proving that her star-turn in Jerry Maguire was no fluke, Zellwegger--inhabiting a character that at times seems in danger of alienating the audience with her aloof obnoxiousness--portrays Ellen with tender and subtle intricacies once her front melts away.

William Hurt, meanwhile, uses his characteristic brooding pathos to artistic perfection, giving us the sense that George is neither the man Ellen nor Kate expects him to be.

It's not hard to see why Streep wanted the role as Kate Gulden. For one thing, she gets to do another accent. (This time, it's a sweet mothery voice that seems deliberately constructed to contrast with Zellwegger's slight poutiness.) She also makes the most of juicy monologues where she not only pours out her soul, but also gives us a devastating and unglamorous portrait of a woman rendered helpless by the ravages of disease. But Streep avoids the overacting bug. She never gives us more than what Kate really is--a mother who knows nothing else but the instinct to nurture and love.

What's remarkable about Franklin's film is its refusal to move beyond the scope of its characters. One True Thing is a small, almost claustrophobic story - but its deep complexities make for a far more emotionally vast narrative than even the most grand-scale love story.

"Home is where the heart is," says Kate without the least bit of irony, "these are the people I love." Using a character grounded in the simplicities of life, One True Thing gives us something almost unparalleled in recent cinematic memory--the triumph of the ordinary.