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Jean Dwight — a once-almostfamous comedian attempting a comeback with an antiquated Phyllis Diller-like act — is the kind of outsize character who could easily overwhelm everyone and everything else in a movie. Among the many strengths of the sweetly touching Introducing the Dwights, a small gem from Australia unearthed at the Sundance Film Festival, is that Jean never becomes Godzilla.
One reason is an exceptionally rich script chock-full of complex subplots involving the other Dwights; you're not only introduced to them but also start to feel like part of the family. Another is Brenda Blethyn's carefully calibrated performance, one of her finest — a high compliment considering this two-time Oscar nominee's career.
Blethyn is the antithesis of a scene stealer, holding back even when Jean performs stand-up at second-rate clubs in Sydney reminiscent of those off the Vegas strip. Her tentativeness seems natural for someone who hasn't been onstage in a couple of decades. Blethyn generously allows her co-stars time in the spotlight, even as she plays a frustrated woman whose longing to be in the spotlight is at the core of her very being.
At home, Jean is always on, playing to an audience consisting of sons Tim (rising Australian actor Khan Chittenden), a furniture mover on the cusp of adulthood, and Mark (Richard Wilson), whose mental disability hasn't impaired his sense of humor. The house looks as if it needs a thorough dusting, but with Jean working three jobs to keep the family solvent, there's no time for sprucing up. Dad, who had a hit single in 1975, no longer lives there but occasionally corrals his kids to talk about reviving his career (making you wonder if Noel Coward should have amended his famous line about daughters to "Don't Put Your Parents on the Stage'').
Veteran Australian screenwriter Keith Thompson throws us the best kind of curve by not immediately signaling what the film is about. You think it will be Jean's second chance. Her agent envisions her becoming a gay icon with her male-bashing jokes ("Having sex with a big bloke is like having a wardrobe fall on you''). Jean's beaded jackets are as retro as the act.
But then unexpectedly it switches over to Tim, who meets the adorable Jill (the adorable Emma Booth) while packing her belongings into a van. Chittenden and Booth endearingly portray a couple in the early days of a romance — you fall in love with them falling in love.
Thompson and director Cherie Nowlan smartly establish how right Jill is for Tim before his mom meets her and instantly decides otherwise. Giving the young woman the once-over, Blethyn communicates jealousy on the scale of Othello. To make matters worse, Jill wins over Mark as well, blithely ignoring the disability that keeps him tied to Jean. She wants her boys within listening distance, and sees the girlfriend as the threat she is.
But Blethyn's mom isn't a monster. Her love for her children is palpable, even when she blames Mark to his face for ending the career she fantasizes would have been hers.
Nowlan sustains a mood somewhere between sweet and bittersweet. The Dwights are a highly functional dysfunctional family, and, as the story progresses, you see there's nothing they wouldn't do for one another. Tim and Mark buoy up their mother when she blows an important audition, her anger at men spewing out in a way that is definitely not funny. Tim is protective of his brother, but never embarrassed by him. Wilson deserves special mention for the humanity he brings to Mark. It's a difficult role to play without appearing to plead for the audience's sympathy. There's none of that in Wilson's unself-conscious performance.
Ultimately this wondrous film is about letting go — of old wardrobes, bad jokes, unrealistic dreams and of children and parental ties. You leave glad to have met the Dwights and applauding their adaptability, if not Mom's jokes.
© San Francisco Chronicles
