The somber “The Last Goodnight” shows the range of Writer/Director Rob Levinson’s storytelling. His last short I reviewed, “Ramirez,” centered on a journalist interviewing the serial killer Richard Ramirez in a prison cell. Yet “The Last Goodnight” is a tender story about a husband and a wife spending one last night together as the former succumbs to a terminal illness. It’s a credit to Levinson’s story that while the film carries an unmistakable funereal quality to it, it also contains life. This is a nice, albeit sad film with only one or two missteps. It’s hard and beautiful in equal measure.
The stars of “The Last Goodnight,” Ian Lyons (playing Mark) and René Zara (playing Olivia) are both excellent here. The film starts slowly, depicting Olivia emptying her husband Mark’s catheter bag. This lets us know, of course, that Mark is not well. That he’s dying (the film smartly never says from what) is elucidated in the next piece of dialogue. “You’re warm,” Olivia says. Mark jokes dryly, “Don’t get used to it.”
A Film About Characters
This is a film, like the excellent “Evergreen” that I reviewed years ago, that’s focused on dialogue and space in a specific way. In a way, this is the upper echelon of filmmaking: a director trusting himself and his actors enough to make dialogue the point of the film, and to do little in the way of cuts to alleviate the connection. Mark is dying. That is very sad. It’s also very sad that as he processes what’s to come after for him and his wife that he’ll leave behind, Olivia is overwhelmed by it all. She doesn’t want to envision a life without Mark. But Mark has to envision one for her without him as a way to make peace before he dies. And the cinematography by Owen King doesn’t let us look away. It’s intimacy of the highest order.
The production design complements this. The dimly lit room with shades perpetually closed shut. A warm, yellow lamp. As Mark lies in bed, covered up and with a beanie on to keep warm, Olivia fusses about him and the room. This is a lived-in place, and it feels like it. We can imagine a full marriage lived here (the couple looks about late 50s) and we learn something important: the two met in college. Olivia thought he was cocky and sure of himself. “I was terrified,” Mark tells her. Many of the admissions that follow from each grow their love for each other while letting their counterpart know parts of themselves they may not have known prior. Levinson’s thesis is beautiful: even in death, love can grow.
Love Can Grow… Even in Death
The acting is good here, and Lyons and Zara—as the room feels lived-in—feel like a real couple. I didn’t think I was watching actors manufacture history but rather a couple navigating what life would be like without the other, one trying to be brave and the other often unable to handle that braveness. Olivia cries: of course she does. But the film is also meaningful in the way that Mark makes peace with himself and her impending life without him. It’s not that he wants to. It’s that he has to. Knowing that Olivia can still live without him becomes his need. But Levinson’s script is smart. Just because Mark needs this doesn’t mean it won’t break Olivia’s heart. And it does. Yet the short has great empathy for both characters. It feels real. Mark and Olivia are contained to only this space and time, yet the way the characters interact makes us believe their love and marriage.
As I mentioned with the aforementioned “Evergreen,” “The Last Goodnight” is a character study and a conversation. Olivia and Mark’s interactions count. Their reactions count. And their tenderness towards each other is real. You can feel the hurt when Olivia tearfully suggests removing Mark’s catheter to have sex one last time (“I want to feel you”). Mark can’t, but reassures her that she’ll always have him and that she “ruined all other women for him.” That’s painfully beautiful. Likewise, their dialogues about their first date, first house—and how each remembered each—are especially poignant. It’s hard to imagine watching “The Last Goodnight” and to be unaffected. It may be triggering to some. It may be healing to others. But it’s unmistakably real.
A Short Made with Care
The one minor criticism I had with “The Last Goodnight” is the strength and persistence of its soundtrack. Not the score. The score by Tommy Denander is beautiful. It comprised of pianos and strings and wordless harmonies that underline what Olivia and Mark are experiencing. But it’s sometimes too constant and dynamic. At times its power overrides Mark and Olivia—who are connecting importantly—becoming difficult to make out a few words. The screener I watched had closed captioning, which I eventually flipped on. Note: I was still able to feel all this film’s wonderful emotions, but if the soundtrack was more integrated, softer, and less constant, I feel it would have had a better impact.
But notwithstanding this, “The Long Goodnight” is a special short that’s made with care and precision. It shows the love two people have for one another and how that can survive even death. The actors are superb and vulnerable, and the film stays with you after the credits roll. And while less than 30 minutes, the film doesn’t need a minute more to drive its impactful themes. Levinson and company have created a very moving project here and hopefully it will find the audience it deserves.
Film Premiere
“The Long Goodnight” is premiering at the Elm Draught House Cinema Inc. in Millbury, Massachusetts on September 19th. Tickets are $18 and 100% of the proceeds will go to pancreatic cancer research. For more information, follow the Eventbrite link. You can watch the trailer for the film in the window below.
