‘A Man Called Otto’: a Hanks Triumph

Sony Pictures publicity image of Tom Hanks and Mariana Treviño in "A Man Called Otto."

OK, I’m not a movie reviewer, but my wife and I had a “date afternoon” today, attending the cheap movie day at a local theater to see “A Man Called Otto.”

There are lots of funny bits in the trailer, and the movie does have comedy in it. But it’s a serious story about an old man struggling with finding a reason to live—a drama in which he attempts suicide several times. We learn, late in the movie (spoilers coming) that his wife died just six months before the movie. He’s taken a buyout at work and was pushed out the door after his company went through a merger. He’s convinced the world surrounding him is full of idiots—which, since it’s full of normal, flawed humans, it’s not all that far off the mark—although Otto, an engineer, equates intelligence with two traits: following the rules and knowing how machines work.

In short, Otto is ready for his road to reach its destination. Yet, I think part of the point of the movie is that Otto learns his views are too constrained. His keen mechanical intelligence doesn’t always give him empathy and insight. He may be a good engineer, but he’s not too keen on understanding the souls of the creatures—human and feline—around him.

It takes a stray cat and a new family in the neighborhood to reawaken some of his appreciation of life. It doesn’t fix it all, inevitably the movie is about the end of Otto’s life, but it helps illustrate why, even in dark times with a broken heart, it’s worth it to still be here, to still care, to still read a story to young children in the voice of a bear.

Besides Hanks, to me, the movie’s next most important actor is Mariana Treviño. She plays the mother in the new family and becomes, to some extent, Hank’s surrogate daughter. She’s fantastic in her role, and is the center of both her own family and the newly enlarged family with Abuelo Otto.

And other cast members and characters are well done, too—the only slightly off characters, to me, were the evil real estate ones—the movie wasn’t about them, but they didn’t seem to be the three-dimensional humans the other characters were.

Small point. It’s a poignant story, fantastically acted, gripping and moving. Franky, it was a hoot going to the movie just as an experience. It was almost sold out, and the crowd tended to the elderly—I think my wife and I were among the “youngsters” there. We bought our tickets late and had to sit in the front row, but with new recliner seats, that worked out. We were in a row with several old ladies, who were funny, chatty and sociable—the idea that reaching out and not trying to live life all on your own wasn’t just a theme of the movie, it was a theme of the whole matinee theater experience.

I suppose the fact that my own dad was a man called Otto, and who was also an engineer, endeared me even more to the movie—but it’s also true that my father led a different life with different struggles and was a different kind of man.

The movie is based on the novel “A Man Called Ove.” My wife has read the book and recommends it, so it’s on my to-read list now.

And, if you care about this non-reviewer’s movie choices, yes, I heartily recommend “A Man Called Otto.” See it with some old ladies in the front row. If you’re like me, you’ll be a bit misty-eyed at the end, but glad you came nevertheless.

Art: An Afternoon at the Museum

Oldest son looks at exhibit in Cedar Rapids Art Gallery. My two sons, a daughter-in-law, my wife and I visited the museum Dec. 26.

As a communication/journalism professor, I’m in love with the word. I worked as a reporter and editor, and I still do a fair amount of writing in my day job. Plus I write an occasional column for “The Corridor Business Journal” on media.

As part of my journalism career, I did take photographs, and am an amateur photographer now. And that’s about all of my creative endeavors. If it involves a keyboard or a shutter button, I may be OK a the task. If it requires using human opposable thumbs with other tools, you’re not asking the right person.

But, media aren’t just words and pictures. There’s video, of course. And music. Also, art.

Print of Tolstoy. Tolstoy is also reflected in the print.

I like many of my images, but I would not call my photography “art.” I tend to use images as a fairly literal story telling tool.

But, just I enjoy the work of those who can sing or play a musical instrument. I also enjoy the work of visual artists who can create provocative objects and images. I am not particularly skilled in either music or art, nor educated in them. So art, to me, is a little like pornography is to the Supreme Court—I can’t articulate very well what it is, but I sort of think I recognize it when I see it.

The day after Christmas 2017, during a very intense cold snap, a daughter-in-law who lives in California and was visiting us along with our son, suggested an outing to the local art museum, The Cedar Rapids Museum of Art.

In Greene Square Park looking towards CR Museum of Art. Picture from my bike blog taken in May 2016.

It was close to 2 when we arrived, which meant we would have about 2 hours in the museum. That is about right for this museum, I think—long enough to wander around at a leisurely pace and read many of the placards, not so long that you feel you’re running low on things to look at.

Detail of "Elephant Hunter."

I enjoyed all of the exhibits: The Grant Wood art, the prints, the Roman art, the human figures and the others. I liked the whimsical bench Grant Wood made for transgressors at a local school. I think the Hoffman exhibit of sculpted faces from around the world was particularly interesting, although I also enjoyed the prints, which features many repeated images with subtle changes, such as a whole series of Tolstoys.

I like the building itself, too. The art museum’s entrance lobby, which we entered from the “back side” by the parking lot rather than from the side facing Greene Square Park, is an interesting area, particularly as you climb the steps and cross the bridges to get to the second floor galleries.

Sculpture of French woman peeking into CR Art Gallery.

When we visit other cities, we often like to tour their art galleries. I think we skipped them in San Francisco because museums there are so pricey, but I’ve wandered around art museums in New Orleans, Kansas City, Des Moines, Omaha, Davenport, Muscatine, St. Louis, Minneapolis, Chicago and Washington, D.C. I don’t always understand everything I see—I’m sure I am not alone in wondering why some modern artistic expressions are even considered “art.” While I like some abstract works, I do like some literal communication and some sense of craft, too.

So, I don’t “get” all art. Which is fine. I’m sure not everyone gets all of my writing. I hope you enjoy some of it on this blog, and find it diverting, just as I like art.

Art is a mode of communication, but not always as direct as words, I think. Which is one of its pleasures. To be honest, I think even a writer loses control over their creation once it’s published, anyway—readers always interpret things based on their points of view and experience. A story belongs to the audience. But the writing can still create some sense of shared humanity and experience. As can art.

Thanks for the suggestion, Nalena. Going to the art museum over Christmas break was a great idea. After that, we went home, cooked a warm supper and had apple crisp and ice cream. Our day was made complete by the various works of human hands.