Cinematical

Closing the Toronto International Film Festival, Paolo Barzman's Emotional Arithmetic opens in the Eastern Townships of Quebec, where a family's awaiting the arrival of a guest. But it's not a normal family, and it's not a normal guest. Melanie (Susan Sarandon) is looking forward to the guest's arrival; her husband David (Christopher Plummer), less excited. The guest is Jacob (Max von Sydow), who Melanie hasn't seen since the darkest days of World War II, where Jacob looked out for her and a young Irish boy, Christopher at a French transit camp. At the airport, Melanie's surprised to find that Jacob, just released after 35 years in a prison psychiatric camp, is accompanied by the now-grown Christopher (Gabriel Byrne). Memories, regrets, past pain and and what-could-have-been hang in the air. ...

Based on Matt Cohen's novel, Emotional Arithmetic is earnest and fact-filled ... and completely inert; it's like looking at a civics class diorama. The problem isn't primarily the actors, all of whom are fine; it's more that they aren't asked to do much more than show up and be who they are -- Plummer brisk and brusque, Sarandon flighty-yet-flinty, Byrne handsome but haunted, von Sydow weary but wise. Roy Dupuis, playing Melanie and David's son, actually stands out even though his character's not given much to do; it may be because Dupuis isn't simply coasting on his familiarity and prior roles.
Barzman -- a Canadian TV veteran -- isn't helped by Jefferson Lewis's screenplay, which can be achingly simplistic. The big moment where memories of the past are literally washed away in a cleansing rain is well-intentioned, sure, but it doesn't exactly challenge the viewer. And again, the cast is strong -- a host of Oscar winners and familiar faces -- but there's not much for them to be strong for. Jacob's presence acts as a catalyst -- for David and Melanie to talk about their struggles, for Melanie and Christopher to reconnect after so many years have passed, for Melanie to come to terms with her life's work cataloging and protesting human rights abuses -- but Emotional Arithmetic feels more principled than passionate, more ethical than engaging.

Emotional Arithmetic plays out in a series of fairly predictable scenes -- resentments simmer, past pain comes to light, rapprochements are formed. Emotional Arithmetic tries to paint a picture of the long-term emotional effects of political atrocities, which is certainly an important topic. But, again, it feels like a film that was made to be about an important topic -- it's a little too obvious, a little too on-the-nose, a little familiar. Emotional Arithmetic has the best of intentions; it's just that its whole is far less than the sum of the parts.