Review: ‘Cherry' (2021)
Unyielding and darkly humorous, Cherry certainly doesn’t glamorize the reality of the jagged, systemic mental health crisis in America — and it’s better for it.
★★★½
R - Drama (143 minutes)
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dir. Joe & Anthony Russo
“CHERRY follows the wild journey of a disenfranchised young man from Ohio who meets the love of his life, only to risk losing her through a series of bad decisions and challenging life circumstances. Inspired by the best-selling novel of the same name.”
— Official Synopsis
Cherry can be uprightly brutal. For those used to the Russo Bros. usual fare (Avengers, You, Me and Dupree), this might come as a shock to the system. Tom Holland and Ciara Bravo star in this semi-surrealistic drama about an Army medic who spirals after returning home from Iraq. Suffering from PTSD and drug addiction, Cherry (Holland), can’t seem to recover — and even more helpless, are the individuals that he surrounds himself with. However, he isn’t oblivious to his careless decisions and reckless behavior. In fact, Cherry recognizes that his choices are affecting the people closest to him; especially Emily (Bravo), who is stripped of her individualism trying to free Cherry from himself. Running out of funds and patience, he turns to bank robbing to feed his addiction and cope with a frivolous life. Unyielding and darkly humorous, Cherry certainly doesn’t glamorize the reality of the jagged, systemic mental health crisis in America, and it’s better for it.
Told through a series of title cards, the film stylishly bends the narrative in compelling ways. Holland’s character serves as a vessel for exploring the reality of life from a lower, middle-class perspective. Young people are told to go to university, so he does — but what’s something tangible that he has to look forward to? Of course, it’s the next high he’ll get from different opioids. Because only then does he see life just a little more meaningfully. Eventually, he drops out, and it’s at that point he is truly adrift, wandering through a menial existence without purpose. Despite his best attempts (falling for a dazzling love interest and joining the military), Cherry returns to the very life he remains imprisoned to. In addition to its nihilistic tone regarding the quality of life in America, the film is receptive to conversations about tempering one’s sensationalism and even nodding to toxic masculinity.
Modernity is littered with stories similar to Cherry, both in real life and in fictional narratives, but Newton Thomas Sigel’s surrealistic touches to the shot composition blur the very details we’ve come to know as modern tropes. In the first half of the film, especially, Cherry’s narration of events is questionable. It’s almost as if the film has two different perspectives: Cherry’s (often differentiated by the blurring effects to highlight the dissolution of memory) and then the perspective of reality — or the scenes where everything in-frame is much crisper. The former is dialed to the extreme in scenes with Emily, potentially suggesting the idolization of the character in Cherry’s mind. However sweet it may seem from the romanticized framing, the reality is that their relationship steeps in toxicity. But the allusion of a more stable relationship is captivating, and less obvious.
Unfortunately, the last half of the film completely abandons the subtlety of this storytelling technique in a favor of a more predictable, forward trajectory that ultimately isn’t as successful in conveying the same themes. While the Russo Bros. had complete control of the pace in the first half of Cherry, the second half feels bloated and entirely self-serving; capitalizing off its own misery. It doesn’t necessarily feel like two different movies, but the pivot doesn’t entirely connect with the establishing tone — certainly not in a satisfying way. The argument could be made that there was an over abundance of foundational work established in the first half to set the stage properly for what was to come, but it’s hard to follow that logic seeing as it had more of a lasting impression than anything near the end.
The majority of buzz surrounding Cherry leading up to the release has been regarding Tom Holland’s performance. It is, precisely, as profound and alluring as you’ve heard. Cherry is, at once, both a kind, empathetic character and a flawed antihero, serving as the primary antagonist to his own story. Holland has complete command of the screen from beginning to end. Notably, Ciara Bravo’s portrayal pierces even the coldest cynic’s heart. The emotional journey Emily endures alongside Cherry is arguably even more poignant than the titular character. With two exceptional leads and a supporting cast that includes Jack Reynor, Jeff Wahlberg, and Forrest Goodluck, the cast couldn’t be better. It’s worth noting, too, that there are plenty of opportunities written into Jessica Goldberg and Angela Russo-Otstot’s script for the supporting characters to really form their own unique identity — and the supporting actors accomplish just that.
Aside from the pacing issues in the second and third act that really diminish the effectiveness of the film, there’s still so much to love about Cherry. The touch of surrealism brushed onto the socio-political themes is anomalous in that it is both visually arresting, and narratively relevant. Tom Holland’s performance, alone, can be dissevered and studied line-for-line. You’re encouraged to question each character’s motivations as the viewer. In the case of Holland’s protagonist, you’ll likely even challenge his reliability as a narrator. Cherry doesn’t achieve this at the expense of any character’s humanity, though, which makes the film more fascinating on a critical level. Thus, the Russo Bros. have clearly shown that they have the capacity to tell intimate stories about sensitive subject matter in a gripping, hyper-visual style.
Cherry will have a limited theatrical release on February 26 before debuting internationally on Apple TV+ on March 12. Watch the official trailer below!