~ Review ~
A brilliantly realised film that struggles to resonate as much as it wants to.
Paul Giamatti plays Paul Hunham, a curmudgeonly history teacher at an elite boarding school in 1970. He is the reluctant steward of the Christmas break, looking after the handful of students (the titular "holdovers") who are unable to return home for the holidays. Dominic Sessa plays Angus, one such student, a rare bright spark in a class that Hunham generally detests. Angus is angsty and wilful, and soon ends up being the sole remaining holdover, forced to endure Hunham's authoritarian company until the two inevitably bond - two broken souls trapped in unkind systems.
At its heart, this is a film devoted to its two main characters and their parallel struggles succeed in winning our sympathy largely thanks to the lead performances. Paul Giamatti has played this role before - the world-weary grouch - but perhaps not to this degree. A natural omega, Hunham has become bitter and cynical over a life of loneliness and submission. Giamatti carries the character further than the writing, which leans a little too heavily on recognisable cues. It is striking, for example, when Hunham hands out poor marks to the entirety of his class, but missing is the understanding of whether his class are truly inept or whether Hunham is blinded by generic dislike. Over the course of the film we learn that he is an alcoholic - but are we meant to wonder about Hunham's functioning, or are we glimpsing a sad truth for men like him?
Similarly, Angus' character is a little trapped in caricature. He is troubled and he acts out, whilst his apparent cleverness at times seems little more than a contrivance to ensure we root for him. Would we feel the same way about another student whose grades are more deserving of Hunham's scorn? Nevertheless, Angus is compelling and Dominic Sessa delivers a strong performance (no small feat opposite the illustrious Giamatti), particularly in moments when his guard slips and we see a real, vulnerable child holding out hope for an unlikely (and unlikeable) surrogate parent.
The Holdovers is in some ways a tribute to 1970s comedy-dramas, particularly Hal Ashby films such as Harold and Maude. It is a loving tribute and serves up a tone that stands out in 2023. The trouble is, that '70s tone is a muted one. 50 years later, this style of filmmaking cooks up a sympathetic and interesting story but feels somewhat bland. It is in the lukewarm humour (see Hunham's "penis cancer" insult) far removed from the acerbic wit of Alexander Payne's earlier films. It is in the way that some scenes rise to a climax and then peter out disappointingly, such as when a younger holdover has one glove stolen by a bully: the young boy throws his remaining glove in the river in a dramatic gesture of hopelessness, but the camera lingers a little too long - willing you to infer an emotional depth that simply isn't supported by this underdeveloped character - before awkwardly fading (Payne uses '70s-style transitions) into the next scene. All the students aside from Angus are underdeveloped, limiting how much the bookending school sequences (truly the context of the story) resonate.
That's not to say all the supporting roles are disappointing. Mary, the manager of the school cafeteria, a black woman in a world of white men, grants us belief in a world wider than the two protagonists. She is often the voice of reason, easily the most likeable character and her grief over the loss of her son feels real and demands empathy. Angus' dad, on the other hand, functions merely as a way for the leads to forge their eventual compassion for each other. It's an undercooked representation of mental illness, provoking pity for Angus but doing nothing to destigmatize the issues it raises. This isn't a contemporary insight into 1970's mental health but a hurried cameo that feels cheap and uncared for.
The Holdovers relies on its audience connecting with one of the two leads, victims of private boarding school. The period details are vivid (if not quite as vivid as the 1970s opening title cards) and the film feels firmly located in its setting. It's just a little too firmly located, with few tendrils at its fringes that might make for more general relevance. It shouldn't be understated how much our world is shaped by white men in private boarding schools and their traumas, so it is reasonably likely that audiences might find a way to connect meaningfully to Angus and Paul's stories. But this is a caveat to the fact that this is a highly specific film, with powerful central performances sojourned in a shallow environment.
