Good grief: Riveting ‘Three Daughters’ delivers
Death, grief and the unbearable sense of loss are subjects filmmakers tend to shy away from. But not writer-director Azazel Jacobs. He enthusiastically dives headfirst into it with the bittersweet “His Three Daughters,” a movie that’s not only an acting showcase for Carrie Coon, Elizabeth Olsen and Natasha Lyonne but also an affecting recognition of the inherent ties that bind even the most dysfunctional of families when it comes time to say goodbye to a parent.
We’ve almost all been there. And if we haven’t, be assured that day will come. It’s inevitable. But few of us dare think about it, let alone are prepared for it, as is the case for Katie (Coon), Christina (Olsen) and Rachel (Lyonne). Their cancer-stricken Pops is hanging on by a thread as they gather in the New York City apartment they grew up in to bid their final farewells. Obviously, a time for unity and reverence.
If you believe that’s what occurs here then you’re very much mistaken. Instead of behaving like the adults they are, the sisters almost instantly revert to the children they were and unearth all the petty resentments and microaggressions that go with that. At a time when they should be lending each other support, they are at each other’s throats, often oblivious to the fact their dad lies dying just down the hall.
Sadly, they’re not an anomaly. And that truth is what renders “His Three Daughters” one of the finest films of this or any year. You’ll no doubt recognize parts of yourself and your own siblings among a gathering of sisters who believe they know each other best but don’t know each other at all. Yes, it’s personal. And the ease with which Jacobs achieves this level of authenticity will not only catch you off guard but rattle your soul.
Much of the credit for that goes to the wealth of insight bouncing off the pages of Jacobs’ near-impeccable script. But what drives those profound words home are the flawless performances by his three lead actresses, each as different as their characters, yet singular in their ability to be convincing, not just as sisters, but as individuals on wildly divergent paths.
For Coon’s openly hostile Katie, that encompasses a somewhat unhappy home in Brooklyn with a husband and an unruly teenage daughter. For Olsen’s new-agey Christina, it’s a “perfect” life in California with her “perfect” husband and even more “perfect” preschooler, Mirabella. And for Lyonne’s cynical, cannabis-loving Rachel – the clan’s black sheep – hers has been a largely contented existence, happily caring for her “Daddy” in their shared apartment where up until recently they enjoyed watching and wagering on sporting events.
Of the three women, Rachel is by far the most interesting and complex, or at least as manifested by Lyonne. Rachel is also unfairly targeted for passive-aggressive attacks by Christina and Katie, who unlike her carry the DNA of Dad and his late first wife. Rachel, you see, was part of the package when Vincent (Jay O. Sanders) remarried and welcomed the then-tot’s mother and her into the family, apparently to the discomfort of Christina and Katie.
The latter, it seems, derives some satisfaction from reminding Rachel of her “less-than” status, while also belaboring the fact that she will inherit the rent-controlled apartment upon Vincent’s death. She freely admonishes Rachel for smoking in her own home, while also being outright rude to her step-sister’s boyfriend, Benji (Jovan Adepo), whenever he drops in. Not that she’s all warm-and-fuzzy with Christina, whom she tsks-tsks for adopting an idyllic West Coast lifestyle of yoga, magic mushrooms and becoming a card-carrying Dead Head. Rachel sorta agrees with Katie on that opinion, particularly when Christina inquires as to when and if she plans to have kids.
If the general mood sounds unpleasant, it’s because it is. But Jacobs conveys it with such wit and humor that you relish the honor of being privy to the ongoing airing of grievances and harsh insults hurled to and fro in the name of familial love. Be assured it’s all part and parcel of a slow build toward an incredibly moving finish in which tears are all but guaranteed.
Given that 90 percent of the story unfolds inside Rachel and Vincent’s cramped apartment, the vibe can project as claustrophobic and stagy at times. But Jacobs creates a compelling atmosphere by keeping the focus on the actors more than the surroundings.
What holds you, though, are the truths revealed, particularly the regretful reality that the siblings we spend our formative years growing up alongside, and think we know, eventually evolve into radically different people. Or, do they? Maybe life’s ups and downs have simply jaded them to the point that they forget who they are. After all, each life is forever changing, as we drift further and further apart. “His Three Daughters” poignantly impresses that eventuality upon us, while also gently reminding us that our parents aren’t perfect, either.
As children, we see them as our immortal protectors. We forget that they are just people, possessed of joys and regrets we seldom take time to understand – until perhaps it’s too late. We are who we come from. Nothing will ever change that. And “His Three Daughters” is a film that serves as a powerful reminder that family is all we have to cling to when the end is near. So grab on, hold tight and never let go.
Movie review
His Three Daughters
Rated: R for language and drug use
Cast: Carrie Coon, Elizabeth Olsen, Natasha Lyonne, Jovan Adepo and Jay O. Sanders
Director: Azazel Jacobs
Writer: Azazel Jacobs
Runtime: 101 minutes
Where: In theaters before coming to Netflix on Sept. 20
Grade: A-
