In the autumnal stretches of each year, it seems, there’s at least one spare, micro-budgeted indie film, a la Starting Out in the Evening or Venus, that features a ruminative, calling card performance by an aging actor. Last year that film was That Evening Sun, and that actor was Hal Holbrook, Oscar-nominated a few years back for his supporting turn in Sean Penn’s adaptation of Into the Wild.
Based on a short story by William Gay, and gracefully adapted for the screen by director Scott Teems, this movie might best be described as a coming-to-terms-with-age tale — part mournfully rustic, part delightfully crotchety, and entirely a fitting vehicle for Holbrook’s under-appreciated talents. The erstwhile big screen “Deep Throat” stars as Abner Meecham, an aging Tennessee farmer who absconds from the assisted living facility he’s been set up in by his lawyer son (Walton Goggins), and catches a ride back to his country farm to live out his days in peace. Upon his return, though, he discovers his property has been leased to an old enemy and his family. Not one to either suffer fools or be dictated to, Abner moves into the old tenant shack on the property and declares he will not leave until the farm is returned to him. But Lonzo Choat (Raymond McKinnon), the new tenant, has no intention of giving in to Abner’s demands, and so an increasingly edgy and dangerous battle of wills ensues.
Trading in slow pans, simple set-ups and outdoor locations that match the material, Teems doesn’t try to showcase a bunch of directorial razzle dazzle. Southern characters are frequently woefully misrepresented in American film, but, if you ignore the molasses-dipped names, That Evening Sun has an easy, unforced sense of authenticity that takes it a long way. There’s a Faulknerian specificity here, and Holbrook doesn’t overplay the emotion, expressing the grace notes of a man swallowed up by both frustration and regrets he won’t as readily admit. Abner’s decisions are sometimes a bit more impulsive than seem genuine for a man of his age, no matter the heart behind them. But That Evening Sun poignantly reminds us that feeling is often stronger than thought, in adolescence and old age alike.
Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case in turn stored in a cardboard slipcover, That Evening Sun comes to DVD presented in 2.35:1 anamorphic widescreen, preserving the aspect ratio of the movie’s theatrical exhibition. Its audio comes in the form of an English language Dolby digital 5.1 mix, with optional English and Spanish subtitles. Cinematographer Rodney Taylor and editor Travis Sittard sit in with Teems for a feature-length audio commentary track that’s somewhat amusingly dubbed an “anti-commentary track,” part of Teems’ only-half-kidding protest at not simply letting the movie stand by itself. There’s also a nine-minute, somewhat impressionistic making-of featurette, set to music from the movie; over 70 minutes of cast and crew interviews; the film’s theatrical trailer; and a 30-minute scene-specific look at the production design and overall collaborative construction of the movie. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here; to purchase the film on Blu-ray, meanwhile, click here. B (Movie) B+ (Disc)