Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close Review

• 10th Feb 2012

For me, one of single most arresting images from 9/11, was not the Twin Towers themselves, but the people falling from them. Stephen Taldry’s choice to start off with this image creates an unsettling atmosphere throughout the film, which despite it’s moments of brevity, you can’t shake.

Thomas Horn stars as Oskar Schell, an unusual eleven year old who loses his father in the 9/11 attacks. His father, played by Tom Hanks, is his gateway to the world and after then initial scenes of 9/11 we’re thrown into an idyll of domestic silliness. Tom Hanks is a father who envisages adventures for his son, creates elaborate stories for him and pushes him to explore the world around him. It’s obvious that Oskar has some form of Aspergers, and although according to Oskar ‘testing was inconclusive’, without his Father, Oskar has to come to terms with his grief alone.

A year on and Oskar plucks up enough courage to face his father’s room and wallows amongst his clothes. It’s here that he finds a mysterious key in an envelope marked only with the word ‘Black’. Oskar believes that his father has left a mystery for him to unravel and meticulously, painstakingly makes attempts at finding the lock that the key fits.

Sandra Bullock plays his mother, who is, in Oskar’s words ‘in absentia’. Seemingly lost in her own grief, she can’t connect with her eccentric son. He tentatively turns to his grandmother, but it’s with his grandmother’s new house guest, ‘The Renter’, played by Max Von Sydow, that he reveals his plan fully and allows him to share in his quest. The Renter hasn’t spoken for 60-odd years and communicates only through a notebook and it’s clear that’s why Oskar can take control in their relationship.

This is a film about voices. Oskar is constantly talking, either in scene or through narration, a never-ending slew of words that are at times extremely loud and unnecessary, but it works as you feel that Oskar is telling himself what he’s doing. He’s instructing himself on how to get through the next few hours, days and months. The father’s voice, which now only exists in six voice mail messages, carries us through the film. And then there’s The Renter, whose choice to not speak after a tragic childhood event, brings a fresh perspective to the idea of unspeakable loss.

This is a difficult film to not like. It’s a moving story, but told through Oskar’s eyes it becomes jumbled and discordant. Sometimes the devices used to drive the film are contrived, but inevitably it’s a good enough story to carry the film through these moments. There are some outstanding moments – Oskar’s self harming is so visceral and unimaginable with a child who is, at least outwardly, trying to take control. Max Von Sydow is incredible as the mysterious grandfather-esque figure, shrouded in mystery and his own pain. The film would have benefitted from more of his story, but it does reflect the way that Oskar thinks primarily about his own loss only.

As a film about the unbearable weight of loss from a child that already struggles with the demands of the world, it’s an interesting and touching film. It’s certainly sensitive enough to the events of  9/11, particularly as it focuses on a child that’s left behind. However, I’m not sure we’re ready to see the disturbing images of the twin towers falling in film yet, and despite Oskar looking as if he’d taken the first steps to move on, it was certainly a silent screening as the credits rolled up.  

Maliha Basak