Sometimes you see a trailer that makes you think, ‘No. That’s not real. That’s not a real movie that enough people actually thought made sense to put much much money and man hours into.’ And then there are times where you think, ‘It’s almost April Fools Day, so this is DEFINITELY not a real movie.’ But it is. And it’s…good Godtopus, there are no words.
The Book of Henry comes from Colin Trevorrow, the helmer whose career was launched with the quirky romantic comedy Safety Not Guaranteed, whose reputation was dinged first by the WTFness of his big budget follow-up Jurassic World, then by his boneheaded comments about female directors. And now, ahead of his Star Wars: Episode IX, he’s giving us
hives reason to worry with this trailer for The Book of Henry, which not only plays like a Lifetime movie with no self-awareness, but also is sure to be a future chess piece in the sadomasochistic competition TK and Rebecca have in reviewing garbage fire movies.
It’s just too, too much. There’s an adorable boy genius. There’s his plucky but bit of a mess single-mom. Sarah Silverman with chest tats, because why not? This seems like enough to make a charming movie about mother-son relationships, but fuck that. Let’s also pitch in an abused girl next door, her steely hulk of a stepdad, a murder plot, and Rube Goldberg machines that scream “METAPHOR METAPHOR METAPHOR!”