Set with the backdrop of 1975, The Playroom limns a violent, dysfunctional family, the Cantwells. Four children spend most of the time either in the attic cum playroom or cleaning up after their alcoholic, chain-smoking, philandering parents. As the children arrive home from school, they sweep the living room, collect empty glasses, combine giant ashtrays, and pick up dead soldiers replete with Johnny Walker Red sashes.
1975 is important inasmuch as it, first, explains why people smoke so much, second, justifies the color palate of the furniture as well as the clothing, and third, allows the filmmaker to create a connection between the children and the recently arrested Patty Hearst.
Brief history lesson: Patty Hearst was kidnapped from her Berkley, California apartment in 1974 by the Symbionese Liberation Army, which ultimately unable to exchange her for jailed SLA members. Despite a hefty donation from her father to feed the poor of California, Hearst was held by the SLA and eventually helped them rob a bank. She was eventually arrested, imprisoned, had her sentence commuted by Jimmy Carter, and was eventually pardoned by Bill Clinton, who like many people considered Stockholm Syndrome to be the cause of most of her actions.
And this is how we get back to The Playroom. The children are in various stages of Stockholm Syndrome. The youngest, Janie (Alexandra Doke) still holds her parents in the highest regard, despite their nightly, drunken lechery. Part of this is shattered toward the end of the film, but not forcefully enough to convince us that she won’t want to hug both of them the next evening. The two middle children, Christian and Sam, understand that their parents are hardly perfect, but they acquiesce to the lifestyle and continue to clean up after them.
On the other hand, Maggie (Olivia Harris), the eldest of the brood, witnesses her parents’ many transgressions, including her mother’s tryst with the next-door neighbor – a man who, along with his wife, joins the Cantwell’s each night. It feels that the filmmakers want to make Maggie the most like Hearst, something most evidenced by her intrigue in the case and her defense of the defendant. And I suppose this ultimately works since Maggie becomes a lot more like her parents at the end of the film, despite the ironically triumphant music score.
From the beginning of the film, the evening’s events (returning from school, family dinner, children sent upstairs, ensuing debauchery), the four children recite a tale that each has a hand in creating. The narrative is a bit choppy, but the gist centers on four children with no parents. They run away and have adventures (I think – there’s mentions of castles, boats, fish, etc.). The inclusion of this narration gets a bit sloppy and heavy-handed by the end, but it ultimately finishes with Maggie absconding – an act that feels more heartless and selfish than anything else. Yes, she offers a fine monologue about her siblings always being able to find her, but this is unlikely and rather selfish.
It feels as if writer Gretchen Dyer really wants us to see this move as a triumph, but I’m not sure how it is. The rest of the film is not ironic or clever enough to make this a sardonic moment. This is not to say that the movie is bad. It has its moments. (I think, though I might be experiencing some sort of Stockholm Syndrome myself.) It’s gritty and uncomfortable when focusing on the parents and their resentment toward their decisions to have the ostensibly perfect nuclear family. And while these moments are far from pleasant to watch, they’re acted well – though I’m still trying to figure out how Martin (John Hawkes), the father, can drink just as much as Donna (Molly Parker), his wife, but remain relatively sober while she is a vomiting mess – until she needs to have a profound moment with Maggie; then she’s sober again, sort of. But this is more of a screenplay issue than anything else.
You can feel that the Dyer sisters (Julia directed the film) really wanted to make a statement with The Playroom. The film is shot coldly – despite the warm upholstery — which benefits the character interactions. But the film also seems to force moments to create inorganic symbolism. The prime culprit here is the spelling bee over the family dinner. Each word that Martin offers becomes an obvious symbol for personality or obviously forthcoming moment in the film. Another is the unnecessary fairy tale told from the beginning. While I see that it ties into the idea of safety and security in The Playroom, a fine cosseting euphemism for “attic” or refuge from drunk parents, it dilutes the overall look at dysfunction and assimilation.
