The Fabelmans
As we get older, reflecting on our lives does not mean going in a straight line. While we may think of moments in a way that creates a narrative moving from point A to point B, there can be years between key moments along the way, or simply months. One of the ways art can help us is give us a language and structure with which to see the narrative through the moments. In their screenplay for “The Fabelmans,” Steven Spielberg and his co-writer, Tony Kushner, are reflecting this as we see Spielberg’s on-screen surrogate, Sammy Fabelman, move from someone whose dreams are infused by his desire to control the moving image to someone who makes the images into moments others will not forget.
When I think of my desire to make music, to write about movies, and be the person I am now, I think of a series of moments. I think about what I’ve heard of my difficult birth. I think about the first time I watched “Return of the Jedi,” and how the projectionist just couldn’t get it right. I think about moving from Ohio to Georgia, and the impact that had on me. I think about enrolling in Boy Scouts, and getting my Eagle Scout. I think about joining band, and choosing trombone, because it meant one less regular class I had to take. I think about how, in 8th grade, I wanted to quit band, and my mom- no doubt motivated by having just paid off my rental trombone- asked me to give band in high school one year, and if I didn’t like it, I could drop out. I remember our freshman marching band show inspiring me to seek out classical music for the first time. I remember making mix tapes to listen to while driving. I remember first starting to seek out soundtracks. I remember the lightning bolt experience watching “The Crow” was, deepening my love of movies to a profound level. I remember wanting to write music after hearing what James Horner brought to “Braveheart.” I remember entering my band director’s office my senior year, asking them for a recommendation because I wanted to study music and sound recording in college. None of this happened in a straight line, but you can see the progression of the central narrative. “The Fabelmans” is similarly episodic, and I think, once you get on that track with it, you’ll find it infinitely rewarding.
When we meet the Fabelmans, they are outside a movie theatre in 1952. Sammy and his parents are getting ready to watch his first movie, “The Greatest Show on Earth.” More than any other moment, a train crash imprints itself on Sammy. It is in December, as Hanukkah is preparing to start. Sammy wakes up one night, and knows what he wants. The train he gets will be the first key moment for him on the way to making movies, something his parents- Burt (Paul Dano) and Mitzi (Michelle Williams) encourage in their own ways. Along that path, we see how the family life that feels so idyllic at the start grows more tense as Sammy gets older, and life’s hardships and struggles- many out of his control- have a profound impact on how he not only reacts to his family, but the art of filmmaking in general.
I’ve made no secret over the years that my musical interests, and my interests in film, came from my mother. She was an actor in community theatre, and did extra work for things like “In the Heat of the Night” (the TV show) and “Scream 2” before committing to teaching in the late ‘90s. She also has a beautiful singing voice, and has had ideas for songs over the years. My dad was the grounded one, who went to work to make sure we had a good life, and was responsible with money. He supported my pursuit of music in college in that he didn’t say no, but he also was quick to suggest, maybe I should go back to school for business or something more practical when I didn’t get out of the house as quickly as I probably should have. This is similar dynamic to Sammy’s parents- Mitzi is a beautiful, carefree pianist and Burt is a brilliant, analytical computer scientist- and one of the richest aspects of “The Fabelmans” is how Sammy’s relationship to both of them changes depending on what choices are made. Sometimes, he’s very much his mother’s son, but other times, he finds himself more empathetic towards his father for reasons that we may catch on to early in the film, but which play out throughout its 151-minute running time.
Over the years, I certainly took more after my mother than my father, but like Sammy, there are moments where my dad and I bonded that I will not forget easily. Many of those have to do with Boy Scouts, but there are times when he would go to marching band shows, or concerts and college where my music was played, that I felt like he got what I was about. One of the great things about Dano’s performance in this film is how he plays those moments with Sammy- especially when he is in his teen years, and played by Gabriel LaBelle- where you feel like he sees and supports his son quietly, even if he is always, ultimately, the pragmatic one. Watching Mitzi start to understand Sammy’s drive to create films, and the ways she reacts to them, gives Williams some beautiful moments to play in a performance that can be quietly devastating, wonderfully eccentric, and very much the reflection of how a son who feels a kinship towards their mother reacts to them as an individual, through the good and the bad.
I remember reading, when Spielberg made “Schindler’s List,” that he felt like he had to put away his cinematic toolbox when he told that story. The result is the closest thing he’s made to a documentary, and a film pulled straight from his heart. I feel like “The Fabelmans,” in its own way, is the same thing. While he and cinematographer Janusz Kaminiski craft some beautiful images- from young Sammy getting his first taste of filmmaking to a late night dance by Mitzi that captivates everyone to a moment in the scene where Burt and Mitzi are telling their children they are getting divorced that is a reflection of how a natural filmmaker like Sammy would live out that moment- this is a film where Spielberg puts away (largely) his toolbox, and not only returns to the youth of a filmmaker excited by the learning of his craft, but focuses more on calibrating the performances his actors give him. It’s been a while since Spielberg has been this focused in on working with actors to get his emotional storytelling across, and in particular, it’s been a while since he’s worked with kids quite this intensely. All of the kid performances, whether it’s Mateo Zoryon Francis-DeFord and LaBelle as Sammy or any of the girls playing Sammy’s sisters, Natalie and Reggie, you feel like Spielberg is rediscovering the excitement he showed with films like “Jaws” or “E.T.” or “Empire of the Sun” or “A.I.” in finding a young actor to craft an indelible character with that some kid- or adult- can watch the film and immediately empathize with.
Some of the most confusing, and difficult, moments we sometimes have when it comes to growing up is starting to see our parents as individuals, not just as caregivers but human beings. Spielberg captures that as profoundly as any filmmaker ever has here as Sammy finds out things through his filmmaking about his parents he didn’t expect, and they didn’t necessarily intend to share. It’s a challenge we all face when our conversations with our parents become less about being their children, and more about being confidants, and even friends, with them. My mother and I have had a tumultuous relationship at times, and there are times when we would argue that would get heated. I remember after one such argument- or it might have been after one she had with my dad- where she told me they were thinking of doing marriage counseling; that didn’t come as a surprise to me at all, to be honest, and I was confident enough to tell her that. (They never divorced, and seeing their relationship shift at times over the years, and near the end of my father’s life, was fascinating, and revealed more about them than I realized for a long time.) The arc of Sammy’s relationship with his mother is where this idea is felt most deeply as something we’ve felt might be true from the beginning of the film is shown as reality. The revelation to Sammy of this is one of those moments where Spielberg the storyteller is at his most pure, using the language of film to put us in an intimate moment he himself had, and how that impacted him going forward. Watching the aftermath of that play out is one of Spielberg’s most gut-wrenching, and identifiable, moments as an artist. It also is the start of a new trajectory in the relationship between Sammy and his mother, one which LaBelle and Williams play beautifully.
It’s funny the way this film’s trailer makes it feel like it’s just going to be a coming-of-age story about a person falling in love with filmmaking and the movies when it is so much more than that. When the film is about that for Sammy, though, is when it comes alive the most. I feel like the Spielberg behind some of the great spectacles of our time is coming out as he recreates both his experience of making movies with his friends, but especially when he shows them to people. Sharing your work with others is the reason we make it, and seeing how it impacts those people is where we get the validation of how what we love doing matters. Seeing how friends have responded to my music when it’s been played live, whether it’s been in concerts or the “virtual concerts” I did back in 2020, it’s been the most gratifying for me to see their reactions; it’s harder when you just make your art available, and don’t necessarily receive that feedback from people- it feels as though you’re creating in a void. One of “The Fabelman’s” great ideas is how it shows us the ways in which what we love to create can make us feel more alive than we’ve ever been, but also make us feel pain. When the latter happens, that’s when we feel most isolated, and almost lose our ability to create. When that happens for Sammy, it happens because of something his filmmaking has revealed, and it coincides to his family moving from Arizona to Los Angeles. His isolation is only compounded by the antisemitism he is faced with at school. Gone are the friends who shared his passion, replaced by bullies who have no interest in him other than making him feel worthless, whether it’s because they hate who he represents, or because they’re conditioned that way by others around him. That Spielberg and Kushner do not shy away from the ugliness of it makes it as important a reflection of his desire to instill understanding in others as “Schindler’s List” and “Munich,” and should make anyone on the fence about supporting people who deal in antisemitic rhetoric choose a side. Finding a girlfriend in the face of all that is a welcome sense of pleasure for him, and it gets Sammy making movies again, but even that is not what it seems. All of this comes to a head in a scene that feels too unreal to be believable, but is indicative of how sometimes, art can create reflections of life in unexpected ways that even the filmmaker didn’t intend to reveal. From that point on, Sammy is in a better headspace, but he’ll still need to confront personal things with his family if he’s going to become who he wants to be.
“The Fabelmans” closes with a scene which, again, feels too unreal to have happened, and yet, we know that it has happened because Spielberg’s way into filmmaking is just so crazy that it has to be true. It involves John Ford, and a performance by David Lynch that had to have both master filmmakers smiling while shooting the scene. Moments like this are Spielberg in a playful mode he doesn’t get enough credit for. No, his straight comedies weren’t very successful, but his ability to create moments of levity, even in the most serious stories, is as strong as any filmmaker around. There’s also great moments for Seth Rogen as Burt’s best friend, Benny, and Judd Hirsch as Mitzi’s Uncle Boris, who comes in for one scene and shows Sammy who he really is, and honestly, whom anyone is whose love of creating is- our love of our creations, and our love for our families, are not so easily defined. This is something you don’t fully understand when you’re younger; as an adult, it’s easier to comprehend, and in making “The Fabelmans,” Spielberg is showing that he does, and finding a way to meld the two.
If the rumors are true, “The Fabelmans” marks the conclusion of Spielberg’s collaboration with composer John Williams. With few exceptions- “Twilight Zone: The Movie,” “The Color Purple,” “Bridge of Spies,” “Ready Player One” and “West Side Story”- Williams has been a part of every film Spielberg has made since his theatrical debut in 1974’s “The Sugarland Express.” To mark the occasion, Williams has created a delicate and lovely piano-based score that is wistful and nostalgic, playful and mournful, and brings the emotions of the film home. As Spielberg seems to be entering a time in his career where he is reconnecting most with his youth- next up supposedly are a new film inspired by the Steve McQueen film “Bullitt” and a Western- Williams seems to have made the end of their collaboration a quiet, delightful send-off to Steven as he says goodbye to a friendship that has resulted in moments we will never forget. For so many reasons- some of which I have yet to write about here- their final road in their collaboration means more to me than most others they’ve made. I’ll always be grateful to them both.
