Non-plastic lovers: a review of Captain Fantastic

Captain Fantastic

Director: Matt Ross

Writer: Matt Ross

Viggo Mortensen … Ben

George MacKay … Bodevan

Samantha Isler … Kielyr

Annalise Basso … Vespyr

Nicholas Hamilton … Rellian

Shree Crooks … Zaja

Charlie Shotwell … Nai

Trin Miller … Leslie

Kathryn Hahn … Harper

Steve Zahn … Dave

Elijah Stevenson … Justin

Teddy Van Ee … Jackson

Erin Moriarty … Claire

Missi Pyle … Ellen

Frank Langella … Jack

Despite some fairly obvious flaws, Captain Fantastic is one of the more interesting offerings on Netflix right now. The 2016 movie stars Viggo Mortensen and with a lesser actor, the film might have been a rather dismal effort. But he is utterly convincing in what had to be a demanding role, and makes a plot that might have been unworkable work quite well.

Ben (Mortensen) and his wife Leslie (“the body”) are left-wing anarchists who have renounced the capitalist and materialist values of modern-day America. So they, along with their six children (Bodevan, Kielyr, Vespyr, Rellian, Zaha and Nai) acquire ten acres of land in the wilderness of western Washington state where they can live by their own values. The children undergo vigorous, even unrelenting physical training, know a variety of survivalist skills, and are educated in both classical and modern philosophies (instead of Christmas they celebrate Noam Chomsky’s birthday). A favorite family antiphon is “Power to the People!” “Stick it to the Man!” The kids are intelligent, resourceful, strong, and brave. What they are not is socialized. They’ve never heard of Star Trek, or eaten a hot dog. The viewer is left to decide if this is deprivation or not.

Leslie is in the hospital, and has been for three months. The kids want to know what’s going on with mum, and Ben himself has only a dim understanding of what is wrong. He calls his sister for information, and learns that Leslie had severe bipolar disorder and committed suicide the night before.

He calls Leslie’s father Jack (a strong performance by Frank Langella) who blames Ben bitterly for Leslie’s mental deterioration and death, and tells him Leslie will get a decent Christian burial and if Ben shows up, he will have Ben arrested.

Ben is holding Leslie’s last will and testament, which emphatically states that as a Buddhist, she insists on being cremated and not buried, and for her ashes to be flushed down a toilet.

Realizing there’s nothing for it, he and the kids get on the family bus (a former schoolbus reoutfitted, painted blue and white and named Steve) and head for New Mexico and Jack’s home. And the kids see, for the first time, modern American society.

From there it could have devolved into a silly “fish out of water” story, but Ben and the kids are intelligent and resourceful, and the resulting conflicts are surprisingly nuanced and reveal both the strengths and the weaknesses of the kids’ upbringing. There is one scene where a cop pulls the bus over for a broken taillight, and their way of handling the cop makes for one of the funniest scenes I’ve seen anywhere.

There are plot flaws. For instance, Ben and his family are on the run, BOLOed by every cop west of the Mississippi, and somehow a blue bus named Steve manages to escape their notice for several thousand miles. I mean, you don’t even need a license plate to ID Steve!

But strong acting, especially by Mortensen, carries the day, and the movie comes to an ending that works quite well. Strike that: it comes to an ending that is absolutely beautiful.

The depictions of Ben’s world and the greater American society are well balanced and fair, and Matt Ross sidesteps all the facile stances that could be assigned to either side.

It makes for a thoughtful movie that happens to be quite likable and entertaining.

Now on Netflix.