The toaster that pops in Ruth Goldman’s (Kathleen Chalfant) immaculate kitchen early on in Sarah Friedland’s “Familiar Touch” might as well be a gunshot, jolting this controlled, considerate movie off to the races. Amid the relative calm and soothing silence, Ruth meticulously garnishes two pieces of Instagrammable toast. But when she places another slice on a drying rack above her sink, “Familiar Touch” sounds an excruciating alarm that Ruth’s peaceful, carefully curated life is no longer tenable. Enlisting the game Chalfant—in a gusty, extraordinary star turn—Friedland (who also wrote the script) unveils a heartbreaking human drama that’s both painfully intimate and agonizingly universal. At times, Friedland’s storytelling ambition nibbles on more thematic weight than it can chew in a slender, 90-minute run time. But the central preoccupations—the pains and pleasures of memory, care-giving and receiving—resonate with an urgency that’s uncommonly wrenching and unavoidably engaging.
At no point in the film does Ruth—or any character—utter the word dementia, although the clues are initially delivered to the audience in graceful narrative and visual (the toast) cues. After the jarring siren of the toaster, the second disruptive noise is a doorbell. Enter Steve (H. Jon Benjamin), who unsuccessfully disguises his discomfort at this visit with cursory small talk (“I’m an architect”) and casual, icebreaking jokes (“God? No, I’m more of a demi-god”) redolent of a first date. Ruth can’t remember his name—it was on the tip of her tongue!—or any other personal details, but her conversational skills are crisp, her demeanor inviting. When Ruth places a firm hand on Steve’s knee, he clams up, pushing aside the “signature sandwich,” suggesting they take a ride to a destination that Ruth insists—in an amusing, almost juvenile protest—must remain a surprise.
Friedland as an ‘Almost Documentarian’
Ruth’s joy at the getaway doesn’t so much evaporate as devolve, and Friedland films Ruth at a side profile in the car, fixing on her face, then her hands, which she turns up to presumably invite Steve to hold hers. He resists and then her disappointment morphs to a knee-jerk acceptance when they pull up in front of Bella Vista nursing home. (The actual location is Villa Gardens, a continuing care retirement community in Pasadena, California.) Greeted there by Vanessa (Carolyn Michelle), Ruth is again rattled when Steve calls her mom. She can’t have any kids, Ruth explains, it’s too much work! Steve, choked up but composed, tells her that it’s okay, he’s all grown up now. It’s an arresting gut-punch, articulating the pain of when reality lands with a thump, forcing the mind and body to shake out any remaining magical thinking about best-case scenarios.
Through an unbending focus on these expressive faces, Friedland and her cinematographer Gabe Elder act almost as documentarians, conveying an individual’s grief in real-time. The steady framing lends “Familiar Touch” a voyeuristic quality, particularly during private moments at the nursing home. Looking outward, however, Friedland is on less stable footing. When Ruth overhears Dr. Brian (Andy McQueen)—to whom she had previously recited her special Borscht recipe, thus proving her mental mettle—talking to Vanessa about his mom and grandma, he refers to the care complex as an unaffordable “geriatric country club.” No further mention is made, and as far as we can see, thoughtful, independent Ruth doesn’t try to grapple with that assertion. And so this hint towards socioeconomic imbalances and the related travails of full-time caregivers—hefty themes no doubt—feels tacked on, almost intended for supplemental interview material or a director’s statement.
About Evolving and ‘Growing Up’
Still, Friedland’s light touch is a gift to these complex, fully-developed characters, who aren’t merely participants reacting to Ruth’s struggles. Far more than a righteous polemic about a collective’s battle against illness, “Familiar Touch” is foremost about evolving, and—paraphrasing Steve—growing up. Despite an inevitable detour to pontificating, “Familiar Touch” mostly plays an even-hand, ultimately celebrating family support in all of its various, contentious forms, those sweet-and-salty relationships which nourish in health and especially in sickness. And no matter how bleak the outlook, it’s not a crime to have a little fun. Near the end, Friedland cuts from a scene in Ruth’s emptying house—the sink toast is now moldy—to a group birthday party at her new home, complete with balloons and cake. It’s store bought, Ruth tells Steve, so she won’t eat it. No sense in spoiling her figure for some schmucks she hardly knows.
“Familiar Touch” opens in New York at Film Forum on June 20th, and will roll out to select theaters nationwide beginning on June 27th.
