is rearranged and sometimes even the people
are different. In staging and perspective, “The
Father” mimics the disorientation of dementia.
Anthony, a regally theatrical man played by
Anthony Hopkins, is an actor who every time
he takes the stage, the scene has changed
before him. Timelines, settings and faces are all
kaleidoscoped by a splintered memory. His ship
— his flat — might not even be his.
“The Father,” which opens in theaters Friday, is
Zeller’s directorial debut but he’s a well-known
French playwright and author who’s here
adapting his own play, one that’s been put on
around the world. (On Broadway, the father,
named Andre, was played by Frank Langella. In
London, it was Alfred Molina.)
Dementia is often seen on screen but usually
from the viewpoint of an intimate watching
their loved one recede away. Michael Haneke’s
“Amour,” with Jean-Louis Trintignant and
Emmanuelle Riva, which likewise remained set
within an elegant apartment, gazed with a cold,
clear eye on a great love violently fading.
Haneke’s film had larger reverberations because
of its actors — both titans of French film
approaching the end — and Zeller has likewise
suggested — or rather insisted on — real-life
echoes. Hopkins, 83, shares his character’s
name, and “The Father” could be taken as a late,
self-aware wail from a magnificent performer.
Zeller has also cast Olivia Colman as Anthony’s
caretaking daughter, Anne, and another Olivia,
Olivia Williams, as who Anne sometimes appears
to Anthony.
To me, these winks reinforced the feeling that
“The Father” is a clever concept, not a profound