Leaves of Grass, like its characters, is manic. It’s tonally insane, but that’s not a slant. The insanity at hand plays perfectly into the situation and its leads. This is a dark comedy told with an old sensibility. This is a modern day religious fable. It features the tropes and themes of classical storytelling: betrayal, brotherhood, power and love.
Many have been lamenting the tone as jarring. It absolutely is, but in the best and most suitable way possible. When the situation and humor shift it goes into an unexpected and joyous territory. When a nice comedic moment can lead to two heads being blown off instantaneously, it keeps you on your feet. The feel of unevenness is, obviously, intentional. One will either fully embrace the chances director Tim Blake Nelson takes or won’t.
Bill and Brady (Edward Norton, playing twins) seem nothing alike. Brady is a proud pot-grower still living in his home state of Oklahoma, sticking to his roots. Bill, on the other hand, has spent years attempting to start anew. Both are brilliant men, but Bill is the one who left his old life behind. He’s a philosophy professor that wants nothing to do with Brady and his hometown. Brady himself is in a bit of jam. His business backer, Pug (Richard Dreyfuss), wants to expand into the meth game and demands Brady turn his exclusive pot-growing lab into part-meth lab. This doesn’t sit well with Brady or his sidekick Bulger (Tim Blake Nelson), so Brady calls for the assistance of his brother. By faking his death, Bill must return home. Of course he soon learns of his brother’s lie and conflict, but sticks around to help his brother out and to reacquaint himself with his once home.
If Norton hit one false note with either Bill or Brady, Leaves of Grass would easily fall apart. Playing twins is no easy feat, but Norton does so with both subtlety and nuance. They look nothing alike, but Norton (courtesy of a script penned by Nelson, as well) makes them more similar than you’d imagine. They are each stuck in crossroads both personally and professionally. Bill’s level of success isn’t as fulfilling as he thinks it is and Brady is still learning the meaning of responsibility and trying to grow up.
Brady is referred to as the one who didn’t live up to his potential, he’s acknowledged as having a higher IQ than Bill, but he did in his own way. Out of the two, Brady is the happiest and most self-aware. He never left his home behind to pretend to become someone else, which Bill does slightly. They’re both connected through their kind heartedness, their problems, and even through art; Brady is a fan of classic music while Bill is into classic philosophers.
Keri Russell also stands out, as she usually does, acting in an underplayed and non-cheesy love interest subplot involving Bill. Thematically, Janet symbolizes a unique bridge between Bill and Brady featuring both their best features. It’s obvious why Bill would fall for her, and thankfully, this isn’t handled in a schmatlzy way. Not a substantial amount of time is spent on Bill and Janet’s relationship, but it still manages to work and it does add more dimensions to Bill.
If anything felt missing, it would be with Melanie Lynskey‘s Colleen. Brady’s love for Colleen doesn’t hold much weight and needs a considerable amount of believability when the stakes are raised. That said, Lynskey always manages to leave a lasting impression, no matter how much her character leaves to be desired. She could’ve been more pivotal to the story, without a doubt. You also come away with a sense of yearning wanting more of the pot and religious filled world Nelson has created. As is the case usually, wanting more here is both a compliment and a complaint.
Tim Blake Nelson has grown stronger with each directorial effort. Nelson’s last two films, O and The Grey Zone, certified him as a unique filmmaker, and Leaves of Grass is further proof. This is his most accomplished film and hopefully he’ll be behind the camera soon again. This is a lovable dark comedic tale with a masterful performance by Norton at the center of it.