Stars: 2.5/5
It was sad, and even though you could argue the ending attempted to be sweet, it still left this sour taste in my mouth.
The new Apple TV movie “Cherry” is an adaptation based on the semi-autobiographical novel of the same name by Nico Walker, a war veteran suffering from PTSD who went on a four-month long bank robbing spree. “Cherry” is divided into seven sections spanning a total time period of 19 years. After a brief establishing shot over a couple of cars leaving a home in the suburbs, the prologue thrusts viewers straight into the action of the middle of a scene, or as the Latin phrase goes, “in medias res.”
It’s 2007. Tom Holland’s title character is robbing a bank.
Flashback to 2002 for part one, the beginning of the narrative. As a young college student, Cherry meets Emily, his future girlfriend and wife portrayed by Ciara Bravo. For the remainder of part one, we follow the couple as they struggle with the ups and downs of their relationship. It’s a slow start.
Part two begins a year later in 2003, as Cherry enlists in the Army and goes off to Basic Training.
Part three takes us into Cherry’s time as an Army medic overseas.
Part four chronicles Cherry’s homecoming in 2005, as he battles PTSD while attempting to adjust to his new life.
Part five is entitled “Dope Life.” This section follows a battle with addiction. Viewers return to the scene from the prologue, and without giving too much away, I’ll leave it at that.
The epilogue then flashes through the years 2007-2021, as the nearly two-and-a-half-hour movie wraps up to a conclusion.
(Just a word of warning, if you’re squeamish about needles, blood or vomit, you’ll spend quite a few of those 141 minutes “not looking” through half-squeezed shut eyes.)
Overall, the leading duo gave solid performances, but the film felt odd and spaced out. It’s clear in their directing approach, the Russo Brothers were focused on style.
Shots turned sideways. The view switched from wide screen to full screen. The camera focused on one character in a portrait style mode, while everything else blurred. The video was filtered, switching to black and white in the middle of scenes, and using a cherry red-colored lens to signify transitions. Flashy boldfaced type spelled out obscenities across the screen. The video speed switched randomly to slow-motion.
Nearly constantly, there was background music, ranging from Van Morrison’s “Brand New Day” in the opening scene to classical instrumentals to full-fledged opera.
From an analytical perspective, these elements comment on larger themes concerning addiction and trauma, but the constant suspension of reality was a little distracting and even overwhelming at times. I often found myself focusing on the video effects over the story itself.
Several times, I missed what the characters said, due to my intense focus on the effects.
As a whole, the dialogue between characters wasn’t the most important, but Cherry frequently breaks the fourth wall, speaking directly to viewers in long soliloquy style voiceovers that both narrate the events and comment on his inner feelings.
It’s dark. It’s harrowing.
There’s really no other way to describe it. After watching, it just leaves a pit in your stomach.