Juniper

Charlotte Rampling gives an uncompromising performance as mean old drunk who is forced by ill health to lean on the grandson she's never met.

Most acting performances aim to make the audience experience empathy for the character. Thespians understandably want to create something that reflects and evokes our feelings.

It’s become commonplace for even the vilest villains to have a human touch that makes their evil deeds seem more transgressive — see Kang the Conqueror and Thanos in the MCU, for example.

Charlotte Rampling offers no such easy touchstones in “Juniper.” She plays Ruth, a bitter old drunk of a woman who is forced by ill health to move in with her estranged son and lean on the grandson she’s never met before.

There will be some softening over the course of the film, of course, as she and the boy bond over the pain they share and her failing body compels her to face her mortality. But Ruth remains fractious and uncompromising to the bitter end.

Written and directed by Matthew J. Saville, an actor making his feature film his feature film debut behind the camera, “Juniper” is a study in regret and stubbornness. It’s a compelling film that does not reach to pluck the obvious emotional heartstrings.

Marton Csokas plays Ruth’s son, Robert, who she sent him away at a young age and never even told him who his father was. Ruth comes to stay with him at his failing farm in New Zealand after she suffers a badly broken leg that cannot be put into a cast. It’s just temporary, Robert says, but then he quickly departs to take care of some financial business and leaves Ruth in the hands of his son, Sam (Marton Csokas).

Sam is a piece of work all on his own. Like his dad, he was sent off to a strict boarding school and doesn’t have much of a relationship with his parent. His mother passed away following a long illness in the not-too-distant past, and Sam is experiencing shame at not having been present for her. He’s acting out in negative ways and has recently been suspended from school for fighting.

Unsurprisingly, at first he doesn’t want to have anything to do with Ruth. Her nurse, Sarah (Edith Poor), does most of the daily tending — which seems to consist of making sure her pitcher of gin and water is always kept full. Ruth puts a way about a bottle a day of gin, of which the acting ingredient lends the film’s title.

Things get off to a rocky start. Ruth is short-tempered and demanding. When he doesn’t comply, she hurls a glass at Sam. He dares her to throw another, promising he won’t get out of the way. So she does, and plonks him in the head, opening up a gash over his eyebrow. But somehow in this opening salvo they’ve taken each other’s measure.

“At least I know you’re a fighter,” Ruth comments.

The middle section of the movie is a bit predictable. We know Ruth and Sam are going to put away their hostilities and learn about each other. Such as that Ruth was a vagabond photojournalist specializing in covering wars. She’s seen and done a lot, and values her independence above all.

She’s also not shy about her expressing her fondness for booze and sex. Her prime regret about getting old and infirm is that it is robbing her of her ability to pursue her lusts. Ruth bribes some of Sam’s friends with liquor to clear the overrun garden, mostly so she can stare lasciviously at their lithe young bodies.

The screenplay doesn’t give Sam as much to work with. He seems like a typical teen dealing with his own urges and need to rebel. The death of his mother and his father’s inability to relate to him just add accelerant to what was already a noxious mix. He really needs warmth and empathy, but those are in short supply in his family — so Ruth’s attention and stern admonitions will have to do.

There’s a lot to like about “Juniper.” If anything, it left me wanting more. I craved flashbacks to Ruth’s younger life or a love interest for Sam to help him find a female he can relate to at eye level. There’s a bit of a suggestion of romance with Sarah, but she’s older and wiser, and the crucifix around her neck suggest she’s more about providing compassion than satisfying passion.

Mostly it’s a showcase for Rampling, who’s literally lived her whole life in front of the camera, from daring ingenue to elderly lady coming to terms with the end of life being closer than the start.

If you’re expecting tears and big Oscar-clip acting moments, this isn’t the movie for you. It’s closer to the bone than the heart.