THE STORY – A woman transitions to life in assisted living contending with her relationship to herself and her caregivers.
THE CAST – Kathleen Chalfant, Carolyn Michelle, Andy McQueen & H. Jon Benjamin
THE TEAM – Sarah Friedland (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 91 Minutes
In the Horizons section of the Venice Film Festival program lies Sarah Friedland’s “Familiar Touch,” a refined and graceful film that focuses on an elderly woman struggling to acclimate to living in a care home. This delicate drama begins with a sandwich, as former cook Ruth (Kathleen Chalfant) lovingly pieces ingredients together. There is care given, but the process seems somewhat of a reflex like she’s done this a thousand times. The first hint that something isn’t quite right occurs moments later when she places an accidental extra slice of toast in with her dishes.
She places the sandwich in front of a man and begins eating before sheepishly asking her son what his name is. Steve (H. Jon Benjamin in a perfectly pitched performance of wistful sadness) is about to take her on a trip, his face somber but soft as Ruth declares he can’t be her son because she never wanted to be a mother. This is distinctly the sorrowful but tender vibe that director Friedland curates as Ruth sinks into her space in assisted living with the finesse of a child unwilling to go to the shop: they’ll do it but won’t make it easy.
This is because Ruth sees herself as more than capable. Chalfant, who’s extraordinary, captures Ruth as someone distinctly earnest in her assertion that she can do things herself, even with her Alzheimer’s diagnosis. She arrives at breakfast to ask for a menu, the public living space reminiscent of a BnB to the mostly lucid octogenarian. Her arrival here doesn’t so much disturb her day-to-day life as it does exert itself as a vacation from it.
This comes to a head when Ruth, in a state of delusion, forgoes the idea that she is a resident of the facility and, instead, is someone working in it. Her cookery skills come to fruition as she enters the kitchen, dons an apron, and begins fixing the fruit salad; her segmenting of grapefruit is swift and done with the confidence of a spritely professional. What Friedland does with this scene is stunningly empathetic. This could have been quite alarming to staff member Vanessa (Carolyn Michelle Smith), but Friedland treats it respectfully.
Safety guidelines are broken when Ruth is allowed to wield a knife under her mental state, but they allow it because they understand that Ruth is no danger to herself or anyone. That she is not her disease is shown to audiences in this way, and in several other instances, such as a VR headset, which she removes, silently affronted and laughing at her fellow residents alongside her friend. These so-called guidelines being broken is exactly what Friedland is doing with “Familiar Touch,” as the film appears to refuse standard genre markers of where conflict can spill from; it never denigrates Ruth’s infirmity or uses her social faux pas as the foundation of levity aimed downward. Instead, the humor is sweet and caring. Her time in the kitchen comes to a close with the supposed end of her shift; the breakfast that was once a splodge of eggs on a plate is now a lovingly crafted construction of triangle-shaped toast and ketchup dots.
Friedland’s script is careful and considered, never allowing for histrionics. It is often set firmly from the perspective of Ruth, with small, almost imperceptible leaps of time – which appear more frequently as the film goes on – representing her slow destabilization. Her friendship with Vanessa and colleague Brian (Andy McQueen) blossoms because of her kindness and demeanor, even in the face of her confusion. A third-act excursion beyond the permitters of the establishment allows Friedland to portray Ruth’s struggles with the home, but this film is not going for any form of prison break. Rather, it approaches this gentle conflict in the same way we have come to expect from this more subdued film.
“Familiar Touch” is a sincere film that doesn’t move any quicker than the debilitating disease feasting on the cerebral matter. Instead, it invites you to see a real person rather than an older person with dementia. While it is perhaps too quiet an affair – one that supports its empathetic outlook in delicate tones – this is a film that impresses and emotionally moves often. It may declare itself with a whisper but has announced the promising Friedland as a director with a roar
