Goodbye Christopher Robin concerns the true story of Winnie the Pooh creator A.A. Milne and his family and is told in three parts. In the first, Milne (Domhnall Gleeson), traumatized by his experiences in World War I, moves his wife Daphne (Margot Robbie) and son out of London into a gorgeous country house where he hopes to continue writing in peace. Their nanny (Kelly Macdonald) joins them and has primary -- indeed, almost exclusive -- contact with you Christopher Robin Milne. In the second, Milne begins to bond with his son by creating the world of Winnie the Pooh. His writing about this childhood fantasy catapults their family to fame, though the boy can hardly bear it. In the third, Christopher Robin grows up and goes off to World War II, but not before condemning his parents for appropriating his childhood.
I wanted to like this movie. The trailers were so sweet and emotional I teared up every time it played. I hoped for a nostalgia-inducing fantasy and a compelling family drama. I admit, I knew nothing about the source material except that it came as a balm after the "war to end all wars." I should have done some research.
This movie is as bleak a family drama and coming-of-age tragedy as they come. Milne and his wife are unspeakably wicked parents. Self-absorbed and disgustingly selfish, they utterly neglect their only child and abuse his nanny. Milne staggers around like a Frankenstein creature, shouting and shaking every time a balloon pops, and wastes time scouring the woods when he should be writing to support his family. Daphne doesn't do much of anything apparently, except hang laundry out to dry and sit around speaking daggers at anyone who approaches. Once, fed up with Milne's inability to write, and instead of helping his trauma or fostering any creativity in him, she abandons the family to go party for weeks in London.
Of course young Christopher Robin grows up attached to his nanny, but his behavior is hardly any better. Are we supposed to excuse him because he's a child? Perhaps, but that doesn't make it any easier to watch such a spoiled, willful child whining his way through a nearly two-hour movie. His greatest crime, though, is when he spies his nanny -- on her night off work, mind -- going out on a date with a gentleman caller. He immediately tells his parents that she's getting married (implying perhaps immoral sexual relations, dereliction of duty, and attempting to leave her position), and so they confront Olive in a heartbreaking scene of absolute cruelty. Olive, easily the only sympathetic character in the entire movie, finally quits, and the next morning the boy runs around calling for her as if he forgot the whole episode was his own damn fault. He's old enough to know far better.
Am I being too harsh? I think not. While the story may in fact be true to real life -- I don't know, and frankly now I don't care -- that does not excuse the filmmaker's portrayal of events. Given this icky domesticity, they persist in making the film look like an idyllic family fantasy deep in a hundred-acre wood. Look at the movie poster I've attached down below. That slightly foggy, sun-drenched look with light, amberish tones is the entire film's aesthetic. They drag out scenes of people crying and skate over the scenes of abuse and neglect. The problem, most simply, is this: The director, editor, composer, and cinematographer want to do one kind of movie, while the screenplay is clearly a different kind. The former set want a touchy-feely sentimental fantasy, while the latter is patently a heavy domestic drama about the failure of one's coming-of-age. In this irreconcilable conflict of artistic visions, the film languors and dies much like the nostalgia it hoped to evoke.
IMDb: Goodbye Christopher Robin
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