You Can Count On Me review

You Can Count On Me is that rare example of a wonderfully written character study that's neither sentimental nor propelled by some moral epiphany. The characters are simply allowed to exist. You come away caring deeply about their well being, but uncertain of their future. The only conciliatory clue comes in an exchange at the end between the two main characters when one whispers, "It's all going to be alright, comparatively". That simple proviso encapsulates perfectly the honesty and subtlety that divides the film from so many of its more melodramatic and affected counterparts.

Directed with restraint by Kenneth Lonergan from his own Oscar nominated script, You Can Count On Me is about the relationship between a brother and sister orphaned as youngsters by their parents' deaths in a car crash. Without the stability and guidance of a traditional upbringing, their lives have struggled to remain intact. Terry (Mark Ruffalo), a dope-smoking slacker, has drifted aimlessly along, never settling anywhere long enough to take root. His most recent ventures have taken him to Alaska and a spell in a Miami prison.

Threatened with the burden of a pregnant girlfriend, it's time to move on again. He decides to make a rare return to his rural childhood home where his older sister Sammy (Laura Linney) has remained. Now the unmarried mother of the eight-year-old Rudy, she does her best to balance her job at the bank with parenthood while enduring a succession of failed relationships.

Sammy, who has been looking forward to Terry's return, hopes he will stay long enough to bond with Rudy who aches for a father figure. However, Terry who despises the parochial life of small town Scottsville, only plans on staying long enough to make his request to borrow money seem less callous, a request that prompts a brusque “I wish you would have just sent me an invoice”, from a hurt Sammy.

When Sammy's new boss at the bank (Matthew Broderick) objects to the casual way things have been run, the two soon clash, although only until more latent feelings takeover and they begin an affair. With a babysitter in residence, Sammy catches up on her social life, leaving Terry to look after Rudy. Given Terry's irresponsible and casual outlook, it's like leaving a fox in charge of a chicken. The scenes between the two are tender and moving as Terry goes about ripping down the barriers he feels his sister has misguidedly erected to shelter the young Rudy.

It's the impact of Terry's arrival and the subsequent events that comprise You Can Count On Me, but it's the richness of the characters that inhabit it that makes it so compelling. Both Ruffalo and Linney produce exquisitely nuanced performances, with Linney's meriting an Oscar nomination, while the young Rory Culkin, brother of Macauley, shows that talent is obviously genetic.

Despite their fundamental differences, Terry and Sammy's past and their shared tragedy will always bond them. The love and tenderness implicit in their relationship is the same you feel Lonergan lavished on You Can Count On Me. Whatever the Academy decides, this is definitely a winner.