MOVIE REVIEW: The sobering beauty of ‘Rabbit Hole’

When Hollywood deals with death — the dramatic kind, not the well-choreographed, summer blockbuster kind — it usually involves catharsis. What I remember about movies like “Steel Magnolias” and “Love Story” is that they allowed the actors affected by the pretty starlet dying to wail and cry and announce coffee mug-worthy catchphrases. The death inspired a bigger realization, ensuring that Ali MacGraw or whoever didn’t die in vain.

John Cameron Mitchell’s “Rabbit Hole,” based on David Lindsay-Abaire’s Pulitzer Prize-winning play, doesn’t offer viewers such cushioning. That honesty serves as the foundation for a wonderful film, one that is as engrossing — and more authentic — as any tearjerker. Death is not always a celebration; it does not suddenly open your eyes to the world’s web of intricacies. Sometimes there is no larger purpose: You have to soldier on with nothing to guide you but unanswered questions.

That’s where Becca (Nicole Kidman) and Howie (Aaron Eckhart) find themselves. Eight months after the accidental death of their only child, they still can’t move on. Slowly but surely, Becca is erasing every sign of the child’s existence while maintaining a composed, cold demeanor. Howie’s desire to move forward while acknowledging their son’s memory is met with almost professional indifference, which baffles and enrages him. The nonstop onslaught of life threatens to tear them apart before they can regroup. Her sister (Tammy Blanchard), an aimless, aging party girl, is pregnant. The teenager (Miles Teller) partially responsible for their misery is college-bound.

The movie’s power doesn’t come from sweeping, howling-at-the-gods moments, but from simple scenes: Becca ruing her gift choice at her sister’s bowling alley birthday party; Howie awkwardly explaining his kid’s still-decorated bedroom to visitors; Dianne Wiest, so good here as Kidman’s round-the-block mom, describing how she copes with the death of her own son. Eventually we see a clear picture of a married life interrupted, which is aided by the cast’s lived-in performances. Kidman, in particular, stands out. She’s always been china-doll pretty and noodle thin — there’s a stern fragility to her work. In “Rabbit Hole,” those qualities serve to her heartbreaking benefit, as Becca struggles to maintain the flawless facade of a woman who has everything.

After the deathbed confessionals, after the crying in the graveyard, Mitchell and Lindsay-Abaire reveal the grim aftermath of dealing with loss: The bereaved must return to whatever normal life is. “Rabbit Hole” is uncompromising, sobering and, in its own chaotic way, beautiful.

Rating: W W W W 1/2