I Know This Much Is True

I feel ridiculous saying it, but Mark Ruffalo really is exceptional at what he does. There is a pathos that he brings to every single role – whether it’s a journalist on a mission, or a corporate defense lawyer on the verge of a breakdown (if you haven’t seen Dark Water, just stop what you’re doing and go watch it right now), or The Incredible Hulk. Each performance is transformative. His range is seemingly endless. And everything he does in I Know This Much Is True reinforces the notion that Mark Ruffalo makes things better just by being in it. Like Philip Seymour Hoffman, and Tilda Swinton, and Giancarlo Esposito.

Here, Ruffalo plays twin brothers. Thomas and Dominick Birdsey – one a paranoid schizophrenic, the other struggling with anger issues – raised by a submissive mother and a violent, controlling stepfather, theirs is a family haunted by secrets and plagued by pain.

Thomas, heavyset and hunched, is a nervous soul whose very posture betrays his personality. Dominick, on the other hand, stands up straight, but makes his way through life with the weight of the world upon his shoulders. He struggles to be the dutiful son and the responsible brother. He is constantly feeling guilt, and resentment, and rage.

Born six minutes apart, on either side of midnight in 1950, it is clear from the outset that both brothers don’t quite belong in this world. Their America is a fractured place. Quiet and lonely. Caught up in a war that isn’t theirs. Their America is a tragedy. And all of it is captured in Ruffalo’s performance. This isn’t acting with a capital “A”. This is subtle. This is nuanced. This is lived in.

It is a testament to how good Ruffalo is that you forget that both Dominick and Thomas are played by one and the same person. In fact, watching him do this was so riveting that I almost enjoyed this series. Almost.

Now don’t get me wrong. These six episodes are nothing short of brilliant. The performances. The directing. The way cinematographer Jody Lee Lipes washes out the everyday in order to reflect their own grainy existence. The opening few minutes, in which a shocking act of violence has you immediately invested in the lives of these brothers. All of it is so meticulously crafted. Right down to the scraps of paint that perpetually encrust Dominick’s fingernails.

But this series broke me. And it will you. By drilling down so hard into despair. By constantly beating down its characters. This is the antithesis to the Netflix binge. This is a long distance race. This is a test of your endurance.

I Know This Much Is True was written and directed by Derek Cianfrance. Which should tell you everything you need to know. It should give you a pretty good idea on what to expect. Much like Blue Valentine and The Place Beyond the Pines, this is a series that is desperate, desolate, and completely unforgiving. Disability. Self-harm. Cancer. Rape. Violence. Misogyny. Even dead babies. This isn’t easy.

And given our current condition, given how much despair there currently is out there in the world, maybe singing a sad song isn’t the best way to turn things around.

Adaptations are hard. Translating the ideas contained within a novel, distilling all of those characters, plots, and motivations into a 120 minute movie or a series of hourlong episodes is as complex as it is thankless. Books and movies are such different mediums. They are connected by way of the creative inspiration required to craft such fictions, but all other similarities are purely superficial. The way our brains process literature, through the comprehension of words and their meanings, is very different from how we understand images. And moving ones at that.

I bring this up because what Derek Cianfrance has done in taking Wally Lamb’s 900 page opus and rendering it into six hours of heart wrenching drama is nothing short of superhuman. I Know This Much Is True is an incredible adaptation. It is faithful without being slavish. It captures both the style and sensitivity of the novel as it keeps you teetering between repression and catharsis.

Wally Lamb’s book was very much a slog. One of those rare reads that gave you a sense of accomplishment when you were done. Not because of its sheer heft, but because you knew that it was something important. That same sense of importance is very much captured in this series. Yes, it is unrelenting in its misery. But if film and literature are supposed to be gateways for empathy and identification, then the way these characters are drawn and portrayed will give you incredible insight into the hopeless lives of so many people who are trapped in self-fulfilling self-destructive narratives.

It might just be a little too much for right now.

I Know This Much Is True
HBO, Limited Series, 6 episodes
Director: Derek Cianfrance
Writer: Derek Cianfrance
Cast: Mark Ruffalo, Melissa Leo, John Procaccino, Rob Huebel, Michael Greyeyes, Gabe Fazio, Juliette Lewis, Kathryn Hahn, Rosie O’Donnell, and Archie Panjabi