Robot & Frank
(2012)
Labelling a movie “quirky” is to risk damning it with faint
praise. It suggests a benign eccentricity but an absence of bite or depth. Robot & Frank is most definitely benignly
eccentric and doesn’t have much in the way of bite or depth. It doesn’t possess
the stuff of great movies in its DNA, but nevertheless exudes an irresistible
warmth.
Christopher D. Ford adapted his student film, concerning an
elderly man cared for by a robot, for his fellow ex-classmate Jake Schreier. It’s
set a few years hence but the only signs of this, besides the titular ‘bot, are
widescreen Skype communication devices and the odd souped-up OAP vehicle
belting it around the rural idyll. This pocket of the future appears hermetically
sealed, and it’s where Frank (Frank Langella) finds himself in his dotage. He’s
suffering from the early stages of dementia, but likes to re-enact his past
glories as a cat burglar in the comfort of his home. He’s a regular at the
local library, and regularly attempts to woo the librarian (Susan Sarandon). When
his long-suffering son (James Marsden, who previously appeared with Langella in
The Box and Superman Returns) presents him with a robot helper, Frank is in
initially dismissive of the automaton. But, when Robot aids him in one of his
shoplifting excursions, Frank begins to see him in a new light. He is no longer
just a cleaner and dispenser of unwelcome dietary regimes; he’s a partner in
crime.
The relationship between the two unfolds at an amiabl pace,
as gruff Frank mellows in response to the unmodulated but soothing tones of
Robot. It’s quite a feat that the chemistry between the two is so perfectly
sustained, as Peter Sarsgaard, who voices Robot, never met Langella (Rachael Ma
is inside the robot suit). When Frank eventually admits to his hippy daughter
(Liv Tyler) that his helper has become his friend, it’s a genuinely touching
moment and one we have no trouble believing. Schreier and Ford repeatedly make
it clear that Robot has no emotions, but the benevolent tone of Sarsgaard will lead
you to doubt this as much as Frank does.
The heist plot is very much secondary to the heart of the
piece, but this conceit is where the few hiccups in plot and character lie. The
idea that the designers of the robot would omit to programme it with the rule
of law is scarcely credible, and a conversation on the subject doesn’t make it
any more likely. There is also a mistaken assumption that, in order to get
behind Frank’s thievery, Jeremy Strong’s designer (who is renovating the
library) needs to be excessively shrill and boorish. Then there’s choice of
book for Frank to steal; it’s a little on-the-nose (Don Quixote), inviting us to parallel our protagonist and his
diligent sidekick with Cervantes’ work.
But the melancholy tone is affecting rather than cloying,
and the humour comes naturally rather than being forced (such that a line about an
enema feels out of place, thrown in for a cheap yuk). Robot’s meetings with the
library help, Mr. Darcy, are very funny, resembling those awkward situations
when you’re forced into conversation with someone to whom you have nothing to
say. And Sarandon gives a lovely, touching performance in a small but
significant supporting role. As great as Langella and Sarsgaard are, it’s the soulful
kindness she displays at key moments that is most poignant.
This is a simple tale, and at times it the telltale signs of
its expansion to fit feature length are evident (the police investigation
scenes never quite play and come across as slightly laboured). But as a meditation
on friendship and aging, Robot &
Frank is subtle and insightful. The score, by Francis and the Lights, may exclaim a little too loudly, ‘This movie
is quirky!” But that’s exactly what
it is.
***1/2
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