An estranged father and son reconnect over the course of a single strange day in A Perfect Day for Caribou, a solid feature debut from filmmaker Jeff Rutherford that marks him as a talent to watch.
Written and directed by Rutherford, an alum of NYU’s graduate film program, A Perfect Day for Caribou has a strong minimalist cast starring Jeb Berrier (First Cow) as Herman and Charlie Plummer (Lean on Pete) as Herman’s son, Nate. Presented in black and white, the film also benefits from having on board award-winning cinematographer and fellow NYU graduate film alum, Alfonso Herrera Salcedo.
Set in the late 1990s in rural America, we are introduced to Herman as he sits in his truck recording a lengthy, rambling suicide note for his estranged adult son. A gun sits beside him. Before he can finish, he receives a phone call from Nate asking to meet up. Herman agrees without hesitation. It’s a fairly long opening sequence, but it works; we learn a lot about Herman and it sets the tone for the rest of the film, which features much meandering both on foot and in conversation.
Herman and Nate meet in a cemetery in the middle of nowhere, along with Nate’s six-year-old son, Ralph. When Ralph wanders off, Herman and Nate spend the rest of the day ambling across shifting topography in search of the boy. Despite their years of estrangement (Herman left when Nate was young), it quickly becomes evident they have more in common than they think, from their mannerisms and speech to their relationships and inner conflicts. Both are men of few words who initially keep to lighter subjects, but over the course of the film they eventually voice their internal struggles aloud. Nate in particular is anxious not to repeat his father’s past mistakes and vents his fears and frustrations, but also finds relief in sharing a kind of mutual pain with his father.
The film balances both light and dark elements with maturity and humour. It confronts emotional trauma but is also playful in technique and storytelling. One way the film does this is through its use of silent cutaway shots to visualize a character’s thoughts. For example, when Nate describes his dream of being a meteorologist and making something of himself, the film cuts to a carefree version of him giving a somewhat hack weather report. It’s funny in its goofiness but also poignant for the insight into his unhappiness with life.
We also feel the influence of theatre throughout A Perfect Day for Caribou, particularly in the “Waiting for Godot” vibes the film gives in dialogue, tone and certain themes around the way the characters live their lives. (Although the characters here are technically searching instead of waiting, it’s a passive search as they amble through the vast, nondescript wilderness.)
The brilliance of the film is in the details. Although it does meander, no detail or comment is too small or insignificant — they all have a callback at some point in the film (some more obviously than others) wherein they reveal their purpose, big or small. Whether it’s a toy truck, shoelaces, a chair out on the road, or a passing compliment, each piece of the film is carefully rendered and has a meaningful part to play.
A simple score from Marisa Anderson subtly accompanies the characters on their physical and inner journeys, while the changing landscape marks the passing of time. As Herman and Nate continue onward, we shift from flat grassy plains to rocky knolls to low valleys and forests. Herman and Nate’s relationship shifts too, albeit in smaller and less outwardly dramatic ways. The film ends on a bittersweet note, and while we hope that father and son have learned from the past and can move forward together into their futures, it remains largely open to interpretation.
A Perfect Day for Caribou premieres at this year’s Locarno Film festival in the Concorso Cineasti del Presente category, which offers a selection of first and second feature films from emerging global talents.
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