Dom Holder’s review published on Letterboxd:
Steven Spielberg's 34th theatrical release is part family melodrama, part love letter to cinema. What it definitely is, is 100% the most personal film Spielberg has ever made.
I always feel I need to be really careful when reviewing Spielberg films, as I make no secret of my adoration of the man's work, and a new film by him is more exciting to me than any Christmas Day could hope to be. Therefore, I feel a sense of responsibility to try to take emotion out of my writing. I have left writing this review for almost 24 hours as I wanted to sleep on it, I wanted to digest it, I wanted to be sure in my mind that I wasn't forcing myself to like it.
As I often am, I was the last one to leave the screening last night, I always watch all of the credits after all where would any filmmaker, let alone Spielberg, be without the team of geniuses around them? My abiding thought as the Amblin logo rose into view for the last time was "I need to see this film again, and soon". There was so much to take in, the two and a half hours chased the audience faster than a giant bolder in a Hovito temple.
For those of us who have studied Spielberg's career closely, the story of The Fabelmans will tick off many familiar anecdotes of Spielberg's childhood and earlier filmmaking years. It also helps to highlight some of the auteur trademarks that have dominated his career, the broken home, the school bullying and antisemitism, devoted Spielbergians will have even expected the monkey to turn up. Susan Lacy's 2017 documentary Spielberg has his father and mother (Arnold and Leah) talk about the monkey with great affection, "I liked that monkey" - said, Arnold.
Spielberg has often been accused of over-sentimentality. Now I could argue all day that that is one of Cinema's great misnomers and showcases a lack of understanding of his work. People in the past have claimed that Schindler's List is far too optimistic based on the subject matter in hand, but miss the point that in fact is a devastating realisation that Schindler could have done more. Old Man Ryan at the end of Saving Private Ryan seeks absolution from his wartime sins, begging to be told he has been a good man. The point is that The Fabelmans is not a sentimental film, it is a film about distrust, it is a film about broken promises, it is a film about grief and fear.
The fear starts in the first reel as young Sammy Fabelman has recurring nightmares of a graphic train crash that he witnesses on his first-ever trip to the Cinema. This fear continues into his adolescence, with both comedy (his awkwardness and fear around the opposite sex), to the brutal, his bone-shaking bullying and antisemitic attacks at the hands of the cliched school jocks. But what uses is a story without a cliche from time to time Spielberg has proved over 50 years that he is the quintessential cinematic storyteller, a fable man so to speak.
The break up of Sam's (Gabriel LaBelle) parents' marriage is devastating stuff. Mitzi (Michelle Williams) and Bert (Paul Dano) clearly love each other very much, but the desire to lead very separate lives makes it all the more upsetting to see the crumbling relationship. Sam seeks solace in his camera, there is a truly wonderful moment where the devastating news of the divorce is being relayed to an inconsolable group of sisters and, Spielberg cuts to show Sam imagining capturing all of this on scratchy Super 8 footage. The camera is Sam's comfort blanket, he sleeps with it under his pillow, his early years show the obsession with his newfound love (the camera), so much so that he won't let Bert drive onto the driveway of their new house without getting out to capture the moment on camera.
What is never in doubt when watching The Fabelmans is just how much love Spielberg has for his parents, the only thing that Cinema would come second to in his life growing up. Mitzi whose affair with Uncle Benny (Seth Rogan) led to the divorce is never painted as a villain, and likewise, Bert is never shown to be weak.
In the past decade or so there have been a number of films that paint a romanticised idea of Cinema, such as Scorsese's Hugo and (going further back) Cinema Paradiso, and whilst Hugo in particular painted this magical fantasy world of Cinema, The Fabelmans is aimed more at those, who like me, take great warmth, comfort and solace in Cinema.
Cinema is an escape for Sam, a place where he can truly be himself, which in reflection of Spielberg's own career is why he has so many fans and why I am one of them. Sam is like all the introverted movie geeks, who have at one time or another felt they don't fit in, like they don't belong.
Spielberg famously won over the school bullies by casting them as the heroes in his early home movies, here Sam tries a similar tactic that rather surprisingly backfires somewhat. It's one of the finest scenes Spielberg has ever directed in my opinion. Sentimentality? Pah, the confrontation in the school corridor between Sam and Logan (Sam Rechner) as Chad lets the real him out of the jock personality disguise is shot beautifully, but searingly powerful.
I feel one of the things that Spielberg's critics fail to acknowledge or notice is that there is a very fine line between empathy and sentimentalism. The scene between Sam and Chad is pure empathy.
The film is as expected, immaculately shot, in places wittily written, scored with an understated majesty by John Williams and performed expertly. It's also in places tremendous fun, the recreation of the shooting of Spielberg's early films "Gunsmog" and "Escape to Nowhere" is equally exhilarating and hilarious, but always entertaining.
I have read slight criticism that Michelle Williams is too over the top but as I mentioned earlier, anyone who has read about Spielberg's upbringing will know that Leah Adler was quite an eccentric, a Peter Pan figure who was more big sister at times than a responsible mother. I thought Williams was outstanding throughout, as was Gabriel LaBelle as Sam. There are strong supporting turns from Seth Rogen (an actor I've had quite a few problems with over the years) who is great fun as Uncle Benny, and Judd Hirsch as Uncle Boris nearly walks away with the whole film.
However, I have to draw attention to Paul Dano, who is just astonishing as Burt. Based obviously on Spielberg's father Arnold, it is a wonderfully warm, yet equally saddening performance. His permanent smile masks a thousand heartbreaks as we watch a family man attempt to constantly do what is best for his family, only for the majority of it to be in vain. In a film packed of top of their game performances, Dano's interpretation of the "world on his shoulders"father will be a Spielberg classic for decades to come.
So is this an overly emotional review? Well if you are still reading (and why are you? It's Saturday night for crying out loud) then you can judge that for yourself, however, if this was any other filmmaker I would be saying the same things, it just happens to be Steven Spielberg. It is further evidence that I believe it is a privilege to be alive to be able to watch the cinematic equivalent of Mozart and still put films on the Cinema screen for us to enjoy. We will truly miss him when he isn't doing it anymore.
And that last line is far more sentimental than anything that appears or is uttered in The Fabelmans.
