To know Eleanor Morgenstein is to love her—apparently. As played by June Squibb, the title character of Scarlett Johansson’s feature directorial debut is a bitingly sarcastic, tell-it-like-it-is nonagenarian who, in the midst of profound grief, makes an unconscionable decision. Much of Eleanor The Great chronicles the aftermath of that decision, watching as a lie she tells snowballs out of control. This tonally tricky comedy-drama tackles aging, loss, the Holocaust, Jewishness, and the difficulty of determining the truth in a fake-news world. But Johansson’s well-meaning film couldn’t be more aggravating, and its biggest problem is its insistence that we find Eleanor so damn endearing, no matter what.
Eleanor lives in Los Angeles with her best friend Bessie (Rita Zohar), whom she’s known for 70 years. They’ve been roommates since their husbands died more than a decade ago, constantly trading quips and telling off whippersnapper grocery store employees. But, occasionally, Bessie has trouble sleeping, waking up from nightmares that take her back to her childhood in Poland, where she barely survived the concentration camps. At their kitchen table before the sun comes up, Bessie relates her horror stories to Eleanor, who tries to make her friend feel better. But those emotional scars are permanent, and Bessie knows she’ll wear them to the grave.
When Bessie does die, the terribly alone Eleanor flies to New York to move in with one of her adult daughters, divorced mom Lisa (Jessica Hecht), with whom she’s never been close. The tension between them is apparent instantly, the 94-year-old criticizing Lisa’s apartment and life choices. She’s especially unhappy once Lisa gently suggests checking out assisted-living facilities—and signs her up for Jewish Community Center events to keep her busy. Reluctantly attending one such event, Eleanor gets distracted by a separate meeting being held down the hall, only belatedly realizing she’s accidentally joined a support group for Holocaust survivors. Rather than admit her mistake, though, Eleanor feels so welcomed by the group that she starts sharing her memories of the camps—except they’re not her memories, they’re Bessie’s. She hasn’t felt so included, so valued, since Bessie’s passing, so she keeps up the charade. Who could it possibly hurt?
Source link
