There’s a high level of difficulty in what Susan Sarandon pulls off with apparent ease in The Accompanist. As Sylvia, the foster parent of a young girl, she plays a character who is a little wacky and indulgent, kind and at times wise but with emotional baggage of her own. Sarandon turns what might have been a blueprint for sentimentality into a believable, idiosyncratic individual.
All the performances in this feature debut from director Zach Woods, best known as an actor in comedies including HBO’s Silicon Valley, are grounded and sharp. Aubrey Plaza, in a small role, plays an inept social worker who hauls Emily out of her house to Sylvia’s in a nearby New Jersey town.
A gripping story with problems
Emily’s story is gripping from the start, as she worries about her loving grandfather who can’t take care of her safely anymore. A near-accident as he drives on a train track alarms even Emily. Alerted by a school nurse, Plaza’s character arrives and brusquely drags Emily to her car.
Visually, the film finds a smart balance between the real and fantastic. The production design gives Sylvia’s house an old-fashioned, almost storybook look. And Sylvia herself is as layered as her cluttered home.
The magical realism problem
Woods tries to infuse a deft drama with a wisp of magical realism, which is more problematic. It’s not that those two elements can’t coexist, but that one part works far better than the other here.
The fantasy element arrives fairly late but is bluntly foreshadowed. The story begins at Halloween and Emily’s grandfather reads her a story about witches. While the magical realism is the film’s most unusual strand, it is also the weakest. The various scenes detached from reality start out as enigmatic but become head-spinning and confounding.
When Sylvia and Emily fly through the night sky, there is a hint it might be a dream. Later when Sylvia thinks of her late daughter Nadia, a scene that plays out on screen, it appears Emily can share Sylvia’s memories. The film strains to open the door to magic, and those episodes land with a thud.
What works
Sylvia and Emily develop a charming rapport, and their scenes together have enough wit and ease to make the story work for a while. Carganilla makes Emily heartbreaking in the way she finally longs to stay with Sylvia, trying to learn to play the piano to please her, slowly picking out a touching phrase from Porgy and Bess.
The ballet dancer Emma Farnell-Watson captures the agony of Nadia, Sylvia’s late daughter, in scenes that say a lot about why Sylvia might have wanted to foster a child without having to spell that out.
The bottom line
The Accompanist has some lovely moments. But as it unravels, this ambitious film becomes too precious for its own good. The fantasy elements feel forced, and the screenplay spends too much time pointing toward a tragedy before revealing it. What could have been a sharp, character-driven drama gets lost in its own whimsy.
