Asleep in My Palm, 2024.
Written and Directed by Henry Nelson.
Starring Tim Blake Nelson, Grant Harvey, Gus Birney, Jared Abrahamson, David Aaron Baker, David Glover, and Chloë Kerwin.
SYNOPSIS:
It tells the story of a man and the daughter he’s raising off the grid on the outskirts of an elite liberal arts college in northeastern Ohio.
Everyone has their breaking point: you, me, and Chicken Little. This is something Tim Blake Nelson’s Tom tells his daughter Beth Ann in the opening moments of Asleep in My Palm, the directorial debut by the actor’s son Henry Nelson, not quite sure which character to invest in more or what it wants to be. Technically, that is true since both characters here reach a breaking point, as the filmmaker has a really cynical, dark story to tell, tapping into the hopelessness of modern-day society. Still, the point stands that this is a confused movie that stops being believable and feels more about provoking response through shock the longer it goes on.
On the one hand, it is about the pretentious and troubled war veteran dad who willingly lives on the fringe with his daughter inside a storage shelter, the goods he steals and resells to make an invisible living, and how that business relationship eventually goes south in some rather contrived, generic ways. The other, more intriguing side is how, when Beth Anne is left alone during his endeavors, the 16-year-old slowly starts to question her father’s unorthodox upbringing while also experiencing a sexual awakening from interacting with locals at a nearby liberal arts college.
Even if the plot itself feels like a stretch that inevitably reaches a done-to-death, twist conclusion that doesn’t work here since it raises more questions than answers (the film promptly ends after, without even the faintest explanation of how or why this happened), there is much to admire in Henry Blake’s bleak, cuttingly honest, sometimes edgy dialogue. Regardless of how much he loves his daughter, Tom is obviously in the wrong here, but he doesn’t come without scathing observations about mankind today and its relation to others or society’s addiction to phones and other technology.
Meanwhile, Tom’s partner in crime is a sad, sex-starved loser quick to project why no one likes him onto others. Naturally, he repeatedly gets on Tom’s nerves, and that’s without even mentioning that the 30-something-year-old occasionally makes some eye-raising, flirtatious comment about his daughter. “She is one of the pure ones,” the suicidal man hypothesizes, a strange comment to make when bringing up the lack of a sex life of someone else’s daughter, let alone one who is 16, also speaking to some warped perspectives regarding sexuality that some frustrated males have.
Nevertheless, Tom and Beth Ann separately run into a satanic cult, apparently living in the dorms of the nearby college. The latter makes a woman friend among them, fueling her curiosity and realization that her father has deprived her of what it means to live and make friends. There are no pictures of them or other memories to speak of. In these moments, Asleep in My Palm is also effective, mainly due to the character growth and evolution perfectly portrayed by young Chloë Kerwin. Beth Ann’s curiosity, thirst for knowledge, and lust for touch are all palpable as she comes to push back against her current life, even if the college kids see her situation differently, admiring her loving bond with her father.
Aside from one explosive exchange between father and daughter that expresses his cynical perspective juxtaposed with her eagerness to experience what’s out there, Asleep in My Palm doesn’t really know what to do with any of this or these characters. Even the satanists are somewhat turned into a lonely joke, only existing because Tom also apparently studied religion and has some mighty pretentious thoughts on the subject (on that note, sometimes it’s hard to tell if it’s the script or the character that is offputting and self-indulgent.)
The cheap twist Asleep in My Palm pulls out of its ass only reaffirms that maybe some sleeping went into this halfhearted script resulting in a film only engaging and watchable due to the compelling central performances. Come for the draw of Henry Nelson directing his father, Tim Blake Nelson, and stay for the emotional range of Chloë Kerwin; she deserves to be discovered through this.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
