Half Nelson

2006

Director Ryan Fleck

It might be cynical, but stories that revel in their lack of answers and celebrate the sheer clueless despair that accompanies our dreary, shitty lives are often the best. From Thomas Hardy to Ken Loach, Shakespeare to Scorcese, geniuses of their art excel when highlighting the morose. In Ryan Fleck’s debut feature Half Nelson from 2006 we have another fine addition to this series of sublime grit.

David Dunn is a young high school teacher with a serious drug addiction working in the Bronx, New York. His secret is discovered by vulnerable student, Drey, with whom Dunn forms a strange and mutually enlightening relationship.

Half Nelson’s synopsis suggests two things: either we are in for a nauseating ‘spiritual’ journey, as Dunn is saved by this bright young thing, inspired to correct his wayward life, beat his habit, become reborn; or, said student is actually a bit older, a bit sexier, and fair game for a bit of flesh-on-flesh action with our hapless purveyor of education. However, Half Nelson does none of these things. Yes, Ryan Gosling’s David Dunn is a little (pardon the pun) too cool for school. Not only is he off his head on drugs, but he is handsome, charismatic, a bit unconventional, has casual sex, and wears sunglasses indoors, which, if Waterloo Road has taught me anything - and it hasn’t - is a guaranteed way into any young student’s heart. Or pants. But it would be unfair to label Gosling’s performance as such. This is no Dead Poet’s Society. He is no Robin Williams. The affinity which his students have for him is based more on his adult failings. They see a resemblance to their own adolescent angst, amplified in this 30-something man-child.

Though there are grittier scenes, the outstanding moments of Half Nelson occur whenever Dunn interacts with his students. Be it the subtle chastisement of a cheeky chappy who decides to copy off his neighbours work, or his joviality with the girls’ basketball team he coaches, they are naturally charming displays of perfect reality. Because Dunn does love teaching. He does love these kids. His bond with Shareeka Epps’ brittle Drey produce some of the film’s finest scenes. Epps is equally engaging in her first cinematic role as a young girl in danger of following in her criminal brother’s footsteps. On one shoulder is the kindly yet sinister Frank, portrayed by Anthony Mackie, a local drug dealer for whom her brother is serving time; whilst on the other side is Dunn, a man who wants the best for her but realises he is no position to be giving advice.

The film is shot by cinematographer Andrij Parekh in perfect, Wire-like realism, providing every scene with a beautiful fly-on-the-wall tone. But it is the actual narrative that really hammers this point home. In reality we have no answers. We are all just as fucked up as each other. But so are David Dunn and Drey. Both the student and the teacher. The cycle of despair is complete.

**** ¼ / *****