Michelle Williams tells a young Sammy Fabelman early into The Fabelmans that “films are dreams”. And they are. They’re also moments of truth; escape from the everyday; limitless playgrounds, not bound by time or space; wondrous windows into what was or what can be; even reflections of our very selves. But, for some, movies are something more entirely: they’re who we are. And it’s this sentiment at the heart of Steven Spielberg’s autobiographical drama.
Filmmakers using their own lives as a creative license is nothing new; it’s unavoidable, in fact, with how personal this art-form can be. But there’s always something precarious about lifting direct events and staying true to not only yourself, but the audience and not just making a vanity project. It’s a juggling act, easy to glamourise or embellish or exaggerate – The Souvenir was self-aggrandizing and self-congratulatory while Belfast skewed too far the other way. So how do you tow that line? Well, trust one of the best filmmakers working today to show us how it’s done.
Through the avatar of Sammy Fabelman (Gabriel LaBelle), Spielberg recounts the formative years of his adolescence from the messy upheaval of his family (twice!) to navigating high-school romances and bullies, watching the marriage between his parents (Williams and Paul Dano) teeter on the verge of collapse due to his mother’s affair with their Uncle Benny (Seth Rogen) and discovering movies amidst it all. He seeks refuge in art – consuming films and then pouring himself into his own – and finds a calling in filmmaking he has to soon protect and defend from cynical parents and peers dismissing his talent as reductive and “a phase”.
Perhaps it speaks to my own experiences defending film as more than a hobby (going from an undergraduate in law to film production isn’t easy to pull off with conviction), but Sammy is etched with such relatability. I think everyone can attest to how difficult it can be to preserve the bubble that you cultivate with the discovery of a new passion, whether it’s art or not – defending it, keeping it intact, fending off the skeptics and critics. Sometimes The Fabelmans feel more like a string of character moments and admittedly inspired monologues about never wavering and persevering with your dreams and it can feel a little light in pushing the narrative forward but there’s something charming about watching Sammy go through it all knowing where it leads – Raiders, ET, Jurassic Park, Jaws and a whole plethora of industry-defining movies.
It doesn’t get into the knit and grit of all the conflicts as it perhaps should, the fairly crucial subplot involving an affair and divorce feels especially sanitary, but Spielberg does show us a big picture that’s never easy or idealistic. Sammy feels like a flawed character too; in the way most of us are, often too caught up in his own antics to see what’s going on in front of him, but it’s refreshing to see a filmmaker not painting themselves as some saint. And LaBelle puts in a great turn as young Fabelman – more impressive considering the amount of pressure that likely comes with the character and working with the person he’s based on – but it’s Williams that steals the scene with a delicate, deeply complex performance as Sammy’s mother. In the end, The Fabelmans is another crowd-pleaser from Spielberg (what a surprise); it’s grand and heartfelt but it’s also a moving rumination on art, cinema, and chasing your dreams.
The Fabelmans is released in UK cinemas on 27th January 2022.
The Fabelmans
Summary
The Fabelmans is another crowd-pleaser from Spielberg (what a surprise); it’s grand and heartfelt but it’s also a moving rumination on art, cinema, and chasing your dreams.
