"Half Nelson" is a film that could have proceeded in a multitude of alternate directions and ended up at an unsatisfactory conclusion. It might have adopted an overly sentimental tone and sketched a narrative that hinged on the triumph of its central characters. Conversely, it could have unfolded ponderously, mistaking its own pretension for high art (like so many indie flicks do). But "Half Nelson" does neither. Rather it is an intelligent, surprisingly accessible and perfectly measured film that uses its non-abrasive pathos and sympathetic leads to comment on life's vast complications and contradictions.
The narrative focuses on the curious rapport that develops between Dan Dunne (Ryan Gosling), a young history teacher at an inner-city middle school, and Dre (Shareeka Epps), one of Dunne's students.
Dan is a troubled 20-something man whose grievances with life are often visible but not boldly evident in his unsure expression and, at times, aloof mannerisms. The impetus for his despondency is not, however, clearly articulated. It seems that his last relationship did not end as he would have desired and the love he holds for his parents is, at best, tenuous and conflicted. But we do not know if these are causes or effects. Often in denial, Dan finds a temporary outlet from his emotional pain in booze, cocaine and, when money is lacking, crack. At one point, he ironically states, "I used to be so fucked up" as he snorts a line of blow. His lapses into excess aren't necessarily what we'd expect from a middle-school teacher.
Dre is a laconic, withdrawn young girl who comes from a broken family. Her older brother was recently jailed for involvement with drugs, her father is an absentee parent and her single mom struggles to get by, even while working constant double shifts. The family survives primarily off financial support provided by Frank (Anthony Mackie), a neighborhood coke dealer who is a friend of Dre's older brother.
The interplay between Dan and Dre builds momentum when, after a girls' basketball game at school, Dre unwittingly comes across her teacher, smoking crack in a bathroom stall. An uneasy spurt of dialogue ensues: "I'm sorry, but I'm fine," repeats Dan a number of times. Even in her youth, Dre recognizes the gravity of this episode and from it, however improbably, emerges a touching bond. Dan starts joking with her more readily, driving her home from school and, most significantly, becomes concerned with the onerous influence that Frank might be having on her.
It is from this triangular relationship that comes the main thrust of "Half Nelson." In a lesson on the civil rights movement, Dan introduces his students to the Marxist theory of dialectics. This notion posits that the course of history is dominated and shaped by the perpetual struggle between opposing forces and from this friction arises change. This idea colors the remainder of the narrative and frames how we are to perceive Dan's desire to help Dre escape the drug-riddled future that Frank has waiting for her. The supposedly positive force from Dan is to serve as a counterpoint to that felonious lifestyle.
Both lead performances are exceptional. Ryan Gosling, whose standout work in "The Believer" (2001) as a Jewish Neo-Nazi won him just acclaim, is quietly entering the lonely ranks of great "Generation Y" actors — if we can temper our enthusiasm for middling Gen-Y aspirants like Zach Braff.
As Dan, Gosling combined the perfect levels of self-loathing — at one point openly confessing, "I'm a big asshole baby." — and self-effacement to craft a character that is sympathetic, but not one who yearningly screams for pity. It's clearly no simple task to give an evenly toned depiction of a man fraught with uncertainty. But his moments of wasted abuse are just as convincing as the playful humor he displays in the classroom. Gosling possesses the ability to channel multiple character layers in much the same way Edward Norton can.
Likewise, Shareeka Epps is subtly touching as Dre. The danger inherent to most child actors/actresses is their propensity to overact. But here, Epps will startle many with her understated performance. The pain of her young life is etched onto her face, and the gray area of emotion she explores is often inaccessible to young, inexperienced actors. Despite her weariness, she can smile radiantly and reveal flashes of contentment, even if they need to be prodded out of her. Regardless, Dre appears to know that there's a better way to live life, but no one has ever directed her onto such a course.
The script, which was co-written by director Ryan Fleck and Anna Boden, is sparse and at times perhaps slightly undercooked. However, it does work commendably at keeping both Gosling and Epps faithful to their character types — both rarely, if ever, strike a false note — and at fleshing out the contradictions of Dan's noble goal. His influence over Dre never takes on an overtly positive or negative form. Self evidently, it's more edifying than Frank's. But a subtle strain of "Half Nelson," despite its theme of the dialectics, seems to caution against such a black/white approach. As evidenced by Dan's complexities, life is infinitely more complicated than polarized characterizations.
The third act of "Half Nelson" labors a bit through a string of moments that all could have been fitting conclusions. Additionally, the film's editing is highly questionable. It often quickly cuts to didactic scenes of Dan's students giving presentations on the civil rights movement and, just as soon, cuts away. These, and other moments, did not adequately stretch themselves out in order to convey their intrinsic point. But these are only minor criticisms.
As a whole, "Half Nelson" is an admirably restrained film that touches on life's troubling contradictions while not saddling itself with an excessively bleak outlook or a cheery resolution. It begins firmly planted in reality and never strays from that tone.
