A beautiful, intimate film that is much more than it’s marketing suggests.
Running away from a problem can seem incredibly tempting. There are times we feel pinned, trapped either by prior decisions we’ve made or by circumstances, life thrust upon us. It’s hard in those times of crisis – in those moments of true existential loneliness – to find someone to rely on. Charley (Charlie Plummer), the protagonist of Andrew Haigh’s phenomenal epic Lean on Pete, finds himself at this crossroads. During many key scenes, a character tells Charley to wait for a few minutes, so they can better help him. Left to his own devices though, all the fears come rushing back to him, and he takes off, leaving the kindness of strangers in a harsh, indifferent wilderness.
The film opens with several isolating shots of Charley setting up a new home for himself. The house doesn’t seem at all welcoming. It’s too dark. The only source of light comes from the television. When his father, Ray (Travis Fimmel), comes home, it’s no less isolating. His father’s kind, but a complete screw-up. “We can take care of ourselves,” he repeats, almost like a familiar mantra. Even when tragedy strikes and Charley could really use someone else, Ray’s pride gets in the way. He may have had a run of bad luck, but he can take care of his family. But he can’t. In no scenes with Charley is he really paternal, instead often choosing to ramble about the latest woman he’s bedded.
So when Charley finagles his way into a job with horse-owner Del (Steve Buscemi), it’s understood that he’s not just looking for work, but a father figure. Charley’s unable to open up to the curmudgeon though, and Del’s inclined to paternity, as seen by the way he treats his main horse, the titular Lean-On-Pete. After a string of tragedy, Charley becomes protective of the ailing horse, and when it looks like the horse is going to be put down, he does the natural thing. He steals the horse and runs away.
After Haigh’s previous masterpiece, 45 Years, I thought I knew what was coming.. I thought it would be a smaller, more formulaic work, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. The film’s pacing is deliberate, often putting new father figures in the way for Charley to meet. Some of them he connects with, while others he immediately recognizes for the scum they are, but whenever a stranger takes a more active approach to protect the kid, he runs away.
This film would be impossible without its main actor, Charlie Plummer, who gives a revelatory performance, easily traversing both the adolescent stoicism and vulnerability the character demands. The most intimate scenes happen at night: him sitting beside the racehorse, talking about his feelings. It isn’t until much later in the film that he’s able to say those same things to another human being. When he does, it feels like the weight of the world has been lifted. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.
At the beginning of the film, Charley takes a run, presumably to pass the time. During the run, he sees the racetrack, which sets off the events of the rest of the film. This is cleverly bookended at the end of the movie. Where, after running away from all his problems, Charley takes another run. Only this time, when he stops, it’s not out of discovery, or exhaustion. It’s contentment.