It’s hard to watch Rabbit Hole and not feel as if you’ve awkwardly wandered into someone else’s private life. But perhaps that’s what the director, Northwestern alum John Cameron Mitchell, intended.
Based on David Lindsay-Abaire’s play of the same name, Rabbit Hole tells the story of Becca and Howie (Nicole Kidman and Aaron Eckhart), a couple coming to terms with the death of their young son eight months earlier. The film looks beautiful. It’s a picture of the perfect suburban veneer that Kidman and Eckhart cover themselves with: a gorgeous home, light-hearted conversation, loving smiles.
But there are cracks and clues from the very beginning. An empty doghouse; a child’s drawings on the fridge but no child in sight; Kidman’s wonderfully expressive eyes, hinting that no matter what she may say, inside she is breaking down. Only when Becca’s sister announces her pregnancy does the truth about their overturned life come out, and the rest of the movie feels like an intrusion into someone else’s grief.
Kidman is truly the centerpiece of this film, which garnered her a Golden Globe nomination and is sure to lead to an Oscar nom. Her portrayal of Becca as both angry and rudderless reads as a beautiful tragedy that both Becca’s family and the audience feel powerless to help. Mitchell knows his leading lady well and constantly uses expert camera work to frame her face and her reactions.
Though Kidman takes center stage, Eckhart (as her husband Howie) gives a powerful performance as well. As Howie tries to keep his life moving forward, he still spends his nights watching videos of his son on his iPhone. Quietly resolute for much of the film, his moments of loud anguish bring some of the most emotional scenes to a head. That seems to be the core of this film: quiet grief. Each character is a solitary island in an archipelago, going through a loss on their own.
Becca’s mother, played by perpetually smiley veteran actress Dianne Wiest, serves less as a comfort to Becca and more as a comfort to the audience. Forced to watch this family’s suffering, Becca’s mother, who dealt with the loss of her adult son a decade before, provides an example of what Becca could become if only she would listen to her mother’s advice.
The ending sequence of Rabbit Hole offers not so much closure as an understanding. There’s no easy fix for grief, but if Becca and Howie live one day at a time, they’ll make it. That’s the beauty of Mitchell’s last image: a couple just beginning a new and altered life.
