Paul Schrader has been releasing a steady stream of films in the later stage of his career (seven in the last ten years). At 78, it seems like he’s intent on leaving his mark while he still can. Oh, Canada is his latest, a deeply personal project, as Schrader reflects on his own past choices and feelings. Despite the personal touch, the movie could have benefitted from more time and care in its preparation as the result is a film that you can clearly see what is trying to say, but struggles to say it.
Based on Russell Banks’ novel Foregone, Oh, Canada tells the story of Leonard Fife, a former draft dodger and celebrated documentary filmmaker who fled to Canada during the Vietnam War. Now, nearing death and suffering from cancer, Fife (played by Richard Gere) agrees to recount his life on camera for a team of documentary filmmakers, led by Malcolm (Michael Imperioli). His wife, Emma (Uma Thurman), stays by his side, protecting his legacy. As Fife reflects on his life and past regrets, the narrative becomes a muddled mix of memory, regret, and unreliable storytelling, as the dying man struggles to articulate his truths.
While the film offers an interesting concept—an older man confronting his regrets on camera—it suffers from confusing storytelling choices. Rather than directly answering the documentary filmmaker’s questions, Fife insists on telling his own story in a rambling, unstructured way, which is compounded by his deteriorating mental state. Schrader tries to pull it all together with the last act that’s supposed to tie everything up, but the result is a confusing and distant narrative that makes it very hard to connect with Fife’s emotional journey.
Part of that detachment can be attributed to the casting and performance of Jacob Elordi, who plays the younger version of Fife in the flashbacks. His uncharismatic portrayal comes across as bored and disengaged, speaking in a lazy monotone that strips the character of any real depth. In certain scenes, perhaps due to the director recognizing Elordi’s limitations, Richard Gere steps in for his own flashbacks, and the difference is striking. Although not Gere’s best work, he brings nuance and humanity to the role of the older Fife; however, his performance is unfortunately hindered by the film’s structure and the fact that he spends most of his time playing a confused and sick man.
Uma Thurman, as Fife’s supportive wife, has little to do in the film. Her character feels underdeveloped, and none of Fife’s revelations seem new or surprising to her, limiting Thurman’s range in what could have been a more dynamic role. The movie also becomes repetitive, as Fife’s regrets—mostly centered around his treatment of women and moments of cowardice—are repeatedly shown without much variation, making the experience feel dull and monotonous.
Schrader’s use of cinematic techniques like changing aspect ratios, color palettes, and fragmented flashbacks adds some visual flair, but it doesn’t compensate for the lack of emotional connection or coherence in the story. Another misstep is the fact that the film’s significant plot point—Fife’s choice of moving to Canada—is spoiled in the synopsis and title, making what should be a pivotal moment fall flat.
In the end, Oh, Canada feels like a wasted opportunity. Schrader’s personal touch and Gere’s performance had the potential to make this a powerful meditation on life, regrets, and mortality, but the disjointed narrative and miscast younger lead undermine its impact. It is final shot was supposed to be inspiring, but for me, I felt relieved that the movie was over. And it is only 95 min!