Paul Hunham (Paul Giamatti) sets high standards for himself.
Teaching ancient civilisation at a prestigious boys’ school in New England, he also inflicts his tyrannical expectations on his students. One can see why he’s hated; in an ocean of Cs, Ds and Fs, the highest grade he awards is a B+.
He antagonises his headmaster (a former student of his) when he refuses to pass a senator’s son, resulting in him losing his seat in Princeton. He often invokes the school’s honour code: “Barton men don’t lie”, especially around students.
But something more appears to be going on with Hunham. As much as he plays the part of a cranky faculty member who barely ever leaves the school premises, his eyes soften as he approaches the manager of the school’s cafeteria, Mary (Da’Vine Joy Randolph), who lost her son Curtis in Vietnam only weeks ago. He asks how she’s doing, not with pity, but genuine empathy.
Hunham – sporting a lazy left eye, a liking for stiff bourbon and a condition that causes him to reek of body odour towards the end of the day – is hiding behind a facade. As it turns out, even though people around him wouldn’t care much, there’s more to Paul Hunham.
Alexander Payne’s The Holdovers is a brilliant portrait of a man’s dissatisfaction with himself.
Even in earlier films, Payne has fixated on showing fairly intelligent men at their most fallible. Like in The Descendants (2009), the way George Clooney’s character runs from his house after learning about how his comatose wife was having an affair. Or Giamatti’s late-30s character in Sideways (2004) stealing cash from his mother because he’s too embarrassed to admit to his less-than-ideal financial condition.
Even in The Holdovers, Giamatti’s character might act confident and acerbic but behind the facade, you’ll find a man deeply ashamed of never making good on his own promise.
Payne, known for unearthing the extraordinary within the mundane, frames two unlikely companions for Hunham during Christmas.
Angus Tully (Dominic Sessa), a student of Hunham’s, isn’t someone to mince his words. He’s respectful and curt towards his teacher. He’s the first one to tell him that he “smells like fish”.
Left behind in school during the holidays by a mother who is still adjusting to a new marital life, Angus is not your typical rebellious teenager. He’s forthright with his thoughts and opinions, veers a bit on the naughty side, an effortless liar, but also kind and vulnerable.
Sessa, who is making his acting debut opposite Giamatti, is sensational as someone who never lets his character’s inexperience become a crutch for his childish behaviour. Payne’s masterstroke is how equal Hunham and Tully’s dynamic feels.
Mary, as a grieving mother, completes this trio of sad, abandoned residents of the boarding school.
Randolph is excellent and understated as Mary, never milking the tragedy to get any character in the film or the audience to feel sorry for her. She’s tussling with her hurt by dousing it in alcohol and late-night TV. She becomes the conduit between Paul and Angus, who seem to be constantly at odds, never able to find middle ground.
Written by David Hemingson, Payne’s film is assured and restrained in all the right ways. It might seem like it belongs to the sub-genre of ‘comfort’ watches during the holiday season, but there’s plenty of darkness under the edges.
One of the throwaway moments in a scene tells us how Mary’s son Curtis had the opportunity to go to college, like most of his classmates from Barton. However, she didn’t have enough money despite the partial scholarship. Not being able to go to college meant that he got drafted to Vietnam, unlike his privileged white peers.
A brief moment between Tully and Hunham tells us how they’re both grappling with mental health issues. Payne doesn’t overemphasise his intent, which makes it all the more impactful. A father-son reunion is unexpectedly cut short, mirroring how life never quite makes space for picture-perfect farewells.
Despite the weighty themes, Payne’s knack to find humour in life’s awkward happenstances remains top-class.
It’s a film that tries to be specific with its period detailing, especially in the manner that it employs its music or even the dissolves. But it rarely gives in to the temptation of being overtly nostalgic about the ‘good ol’ days’ or leaning on sentimentality to drive its point.
In the end, The Holdovers is a splendid ode to how one can overcome generational friction once they get to know another person and how it sometimes lays the foundation for a life-changing friendship.
According to Payne, the generation gap is a myth because human experience rarely changes. “Everything from the disgusting to the sublime…” as Hunham tells Tully in one scene. It’s a lucid explanation for how some coming-of-age tales can trigger midlife awakenings.
