Death is the ultimate disappearing act, and it mystifies young Edward (Bill Milner, “Son of Rambow”). A lonely only child living in his parents’ struggling old folks home, he studies mortality as if it were a magic trick.
If only he could discover where the spirit goes when the body goes cold, he’d be better able to puzzle out life’s other mysteries, like why Mum and Dad can’t get along and why bullies are mean. If he figures out the afterlife, maybe daily life will make sense.
The widows and pensioners who populate the retirement home are a quirky bunch, but none so colorful as The Amazing Clarence (Michael Caine), a retired magician who resents being cooped up with a bunch of wrinkly strangers even more than Edward does.
Clarence isn’t your stock cute old geezer. Caine is far too skilled and subtle an actor to play schmaltzy, stereotypical characters. He gives Clarence a demonic temper that rages when he’s embarrassed or frightened by his eroding sense of control. He’s forgetful, but he’s haunted by regrets about the way he mistreated his late wife. He’s funny in a peppery, cynical way, but he’d really rather kill himself than get to know pesky, inquisitive Edward.
Gradually, however, the mismatched misfits surrender to friendship.
The film opens as a kind of “Fawlty Towers” farce, but the eccentric humor deepens into something more engaging as the old man and the child bond. The byplay between Caine and Milner is delightful.
Edward’s naivete touches Clarence, who gives the boy a few lessons on facing your fears.
Clarence’s drift into senility inspires Edward to help him make peace with his past.
The story flirts with sticky sentimentality but never quite falls into the trap, thanks to Caine’s masterful presence. He makes Clarence amazing indeed.
“Is Anybody There?”
PG-13 for language including sexual references, and some disturbing images. 1 hour, 35 minutes. Directed by John Crowley; written by Peter Harness; starring Michael Caine, Bill Milner, Anne-Marie Duff, David Morrissey and Leslie Phillips. Opens today at the Esquire.
