Daddio

Christy Hall's Daddio is a cinematic experiment that challenges the very notion of what makes a film compelling. Set almost entirely within the confines of a yellow cab, the film revolves around a seemingly simple premise: a conversation between a young woman, Girlie (Dakota Johnson), and her cab driver, Clark (Sean Penn), during a nighttime commute from JFK airport to Manhattan. Yet within this limited space, Hall manages to create a narrative that delves deeply into the complexities of human connection, exploring themes of loneliness, empathy, gender dynamics and the often unspoken emotional landscapes that shape our lives.

From the moment Girlie steps into the cab, it's clear that this is not going to be an ordinary ride. She has just arrived from Oklahoma, carrying with her the emotional baggage of a journey that has been neither restful nor satisfying. Clark, her cab driver, immediately approaches her with an energetic, almost intrusive curiosity that sets the tone for what's to come. He's an old-school New Yorker, a man who loathes the modern world's dependence on technology, prefers cash to credit and has a lot to say about the state of today's society. But he's also much more than a gruff, stubborn cab driver. Clark exudes a warmth and depth that Sean Penn brings to life with remarkable subtlety.

Christie Hall's decision to confine the film to the interior of a cab may seem risky, but it's a risk that pays off. The narrowness of the cab creates a sense of intimacy, a pressurized environment where it's hard to escape the conversation. This configuration forces both characters and audience to confront the subjects that arise, making it impossible to hide behind banalities or avoid uncomfortable truths. The dialogue is lively, often sharp, and it's through this verbal jousting that the characters begin to reveal themselves.

Clark, played by Sean Penn, is a man who has lived a life full of experiences, both good and bad. He's seen the city change, the world around him evolve in ways he doesn't always understand or agree with. But beneath his rough exterior lies a deep well of empathy. He's genuinely interested in the people he drives, their stories and what makes them tick. It's this curiosity that drives the film forward, as Clark asks Girlie questions that gradually peel away the layers of her personality.

Girlie, played by Dakota Johnson, begins the journey as a somewhat reserved character. She's polite but aloof, clearly preoccupied with something she's not ready to share. As the conversation progresses, however, she begins to open up, revealing a complex mix of vulnerability and strength. Johnson's performance is a study in subtlety; she conveys a wide range of emotions with just a look, a change of posture, or a brief pause in her speech. There's a quiet intensity to her performance that draws the audience in and gets them invested in her story, even as it unfolds in real time.

One of Daddio's most compelling aspects is the way he navigates the power dynamics between these two characters. On the surface, Clark and Girlie couldn't be more different. He's older, male and firmly entrenched in his ways, while she's younger, female and navigating the complexities of modern life. Yet, as they talk, these differences fade and a bond is formed based on mutual respect and understanding. This dynamic is particularly evident in the film's treatment of gender. Clark, with his old-school mentality, could easily have been portrayed as a chauvinist, but Hall avoids this trap. Instead, she presents him as a man who, though set in his ways, is still capable of listening and learning.

Daddio's dialogues are where Christie Hall's writing really shines. They are realistic without being banal, thought-provoking without being preachy. Conversations range from the trivial - like the etiquette of hailing a cab - to the deeply personal, touching on subjects such as love, loss and the mistakes that haunt us. There are moments of humor, moments of tension and moments of genuine connection, all beautifully captured by Phedon Papamichael's cinematography. The way Phedon Papamichael frames the characters, often in close-up, emphasizes the intimacy of their conversation, making the audience feel like a third passenger in the cab.

New York City, though invisible, looms in the background, its presence felt through reflections in the cab's windows, the distant sounds of traffic and occasional glimpses of the skyline. This is a city that never sleeps, a place of endless movement and noise, but in the cab there is a stillness, a quiet space where these two characters can connect on a level that is rare in the hustle and bustle of everyday life. The use of light and shadow in the cab is particularly effective, with the city lights projecting a kaleidoscope of colors onto the characters' faces, reflecting the changing moods of their conversation.

As the film progresses, the conversation between Clark and Girlie takes on a life of its own, moving from the superficial to the deeply personal. Clark, through his probing questions and keen observations, draws out Girlie's life story - her struggles, disappointments and hopes for the future. We learn about her complicated relationship with her family, her career as a computer scientist and her relationship with a married man much older than her. These revelations are not presented as dramatic confessions, but rather as natural extensions of the conversation, which unfolds at a pace that feels both authentic and inevitable.

One of the film's most striking achievements is its ability to explore these weighty themes without feeling forced or didactic. Questions of loneliness, identity and the search for connection are woven into the fabric of the dialogue, emerging naturally as the characters interact. This is a testament to Ms. Hall's skills as a writer and director. She knows when to move the conversation forward and when to let it breathe, allowing the characters to reveal themselves in their own time.

Sean Penn's performance as Clark is a model of restraint. He imbues the character with a sense of lived experience, of a man who has experienced life's ups and downs and has come to accept who he is. There's a warmth to his performance that makes Clark instantly sympathetic, even when he's blunt or overly opinionated. Penn captures the essence of a man who, despite his gruff exterior, genuinely cares about the people he meets. His chemistry with Dakota Johnson is palpable, and it's this dynamic that drives the film.

For her part, Dakota Johnson delivers one of her best performances to date. She plays Girlie as a woman both strong and fragile, confident and uncertain. Her character's complexity is brought out by Johnson's subtle shifts in tone and expression. Her interactions with Penn are charged with an underlying tension, as if at any moment the conversation could take an unfamiliar turn. It's this tension that holds the audience's attention, making them wonder what's going to happen next.

The film's pace is deliberate, reflecting the slow, sometimes meandering nature of a real conversation. There are moments of silence, moments when the characters sit and reflect, letting the weight of what has been said sink in. These pauses are just as important as the dialogue itself, as they give the audience time to reflect on the themes being explored. Dickon Hinchliffe's music perfectly complements this rhythm, providing a subdued, almost melancholy backdrop that reinforces the film's emotional resonance.

Despite its many strengths, Daddio is not without its faults. At times, the dialogue seems a little too scripted, too polished, as if the characters were delivering lines instead of having a natural conversation. This is a minor problem, however, as the performances are strong enough to carry these moments without losing the audience's engagement. In addition, some viewers may find the film's lack of action or plot development difficult, especially those accustomed to more conventional storytelling. But for those willing to accept its unique approach, “Daddio” offers a rich and rewarding experience.

The film's climax isn't marked by a dramatic revelation or sudden twist, but rather by a moment of quiet understanding between the two characters. It's a testament to the film's subtlety that this moment is as powerful as any action-packed finale. By the time Girlie arrives at her destination, she and Clark have been transformed, not by grand gestures, but by the simple act of talking and listening to each other.

Daddio is a film about the power of conversation, about how the connections we make with others, however brief, can have a profound impact on our lives. It's a meditation on the importance of empathy and understanding in a world that often seems disconnected and impersonal. Christy Hall has made a thought-provoking and emotionally resonant debut film, one that lingers in the mind long after the credits have rolled.

The moment the cab pulls up, it feels as if the film is ending, but also continuing. The characters' lives continue, shaped by the encounter they've just had, and the audience is left to ponder the significance of these fleeting moments of connection. Daddio reminds us that sometimes the deepest journeys take place not in a physical space, but in the conversations we share along the way. It's a film that speaks to the human experience in a way that is both timeless and deeply relevant, a small story with a big heart.

Daddio
Written and directed by Christie Hall
Produced by Ro Donnelly, Terry Dougas, Christy Hall, Dakota Johnson, Paris Kassidokostas-Latsis, Emma Tillinger Koskoff
Starring Dakota Johnson, Sean Penn, Marcos A. Gonzalez, Zola Lloyd, Shannon Gannon
Music: Dickon Hinchliffe
Director of photography: Phedon Papamichael
Editing: Lisa Zeno Churgin
Production companies: Hercules Film Fund, TeaTime Pictures, Raindrop Valley, Projected Picture Works, Rhea Films
Distributed by Sony Pictures Classics (United States), Metropolitan FilmExport (France)
Release date: June 28, 2024 (U.S.), December 4 2024 (France)
Running time: 100 minutes

Seen on September 13, 2024 at the Deauville International Center

Mulder's Mark:

An elegant young woman emerges from an airport with a small suitcase and strides towards a cab rank. We're in New York. Her driver, in his fifties, notes his route to Manhattan at the corner of 44th Street. The vehicle drives off into the night towards its destination, skirting the dim lights of the highway. The camera then moves away from the traffic, getting closer and plunging us into the enclosed world of the cab.

The quiet, not very talkative young woman is engrossed in consulting her cell phone, answering the driver's questions briefly. She's not really listening to him, more interested in reading her lover's text messages, but it's difficult to answer quickly and calmly with this insistent driver. As he finishes his last errand of the night, he's eager to chat and get involved in his young passenger's life.

Gradually, the young woman breaks into a smile, time passes slowly, words and phrases invade the cozy, silent comfort of the cab, the atmosphere conducive to confidences. The driver can introduce himself, his name is Clark, and the young woman soon entrusts him with hers, Gurlie. These two people, with their different physiques and lifestyles, come to terms with each other along the way, trusting each other and daring to express their doubts, anxieties and unhappy experiences, even revealing their secrets and darkest thoughts.

Some of the more daring, intimate passages made me feel uncomfortable, as if I were a voyeur watching a secret conversation between two lovers. This confinement increases in intensity with the cab's complete stop due to traffic jams, Clark masterfully played by Sean Penn, this aging driver, worn out but still passionate about his relationships with people can now turn around in his seat to better talk face to face with his passenger played by Dakota Johnson. In the role of Gurlie, I'd have liked an older, less aloof interpreter than Dakota, more on her guard against this driver, for greater realism.

The film keeps us on our toes, wondering how this conversation will continue, how we can imagine the end of the journey, whether their relationship will change, evolve or deteriorate, or whether they'll see each other again. This is the appeal of Christy Hall's direction and suspense.

Despite the slowness and lack of action, the minimalist setting - just the interior of a cab, the edge of the freeway and a few passing vehicles - the plot remains plausible and keeps us waiting until the denouement. It's a thought-provoking film, in which we try to put ourselves in the shoes of the characters: what would we do in their place in such a situation? I appreciated it more with hindsight, and enjoyed it more in the minutes that followed the end of the screening, outside with a clear head, than during the course of the film. With this film, we'll never again see eye to eye on a long journey in the company of a cab driver who's somewhat insistent, but who knows what life's all about and who pushes you to your limits in order to move forward.

Daddio
Written and directed by Christie Hall
Produced by Ro Donnelly, Terry Dougas, Christy Hall, Dakota Johnson, Paris Kassidokostas-Latsis, Emma Tillinger Koskoff
With Dakota Johnson, Sean Penn, Marcos A. Gonzalez, Zola Lloyd, Shannon Gannon
Music: Dickon Hinchliffe
Director of photography: Phedon Papamichael
Editing: Lisa Zeno Churgin
Production companies: Hercules Film Fund, TeaTime Pictures, Raindrop Valley, Projected Picture Works, Rhea Films
Distributed by Sony Pictures Classics (USA), Metropolitan FilmExport (France)
Release date: June 28, 2024 (U.S.), December 4 2024 (France)
Running time: 100 minutes

Seen on November 7, 2024 in Paris at Metropolitan Film Export

Cookie's Mark: