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At the Movies

 In "Nowhere Special," James Norton is a young, single father, dying of cancer. He stands out because of what he *doesn't* do; he doesn't have big Meryl Streep meltdowns, he doesn't smile bravely through tears.


Norton has the unenviable task of "auditioning" replacement parents for his son; we see Norton and the little boy in various settings, drinking tea, making chit-chat. The range of would-be parents is wide. One instinctively knows to engage the little boy in a guessing game: "How many candies can you fit in this toy truck?" Another makes a loan of a small stuffed rabbit--but it's just a loan, because it needs to be available for other children who find themselves "on the meat market."

The clock ticks and ticks. Norton is pressured to initiate a "death conversation," but he resists. "Why should my son have to think about this?" (On a pedestrian level, this made me recall guidance about trips to the doctor. Don't tell your child in advance that he can anticipate a vaccine. Why should he have to worry about this throughout the morning?) When Norton does finally broach the subject of death, fireworks seem to light up the sky; it's a great, climactic scene.

I'd see this one again.

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