The Fabelmans

Full Steven Spielberg. Without metaphor for the first time, he looks back on his childhood, on the family background that shaped him and (thankfully) gave him to us. Not that the proverbial perfectionist didn't pay attention to his previous films, but this time it's a truly admirable piece of watchmaking that may not even look like it. Spielberg firstly conveys the viewer's fascination with cinema, wrapping them around his finger with his boyish excitement of a train wreck reenactment, and then making them an invisible member of the family, letting them experience everything he himself has experienced with the characters. And he does it so naturally, confidently and beautifully that it's clear why he made the film. Had someone else been behind the camera, The Fabelmans would have been either a cheesy ode to the best director of all time or a cold family drama that would have been hard to watch. But to find a balance between these two extremes, none other than Steven Spielberg could have done it. PS: And the actors! (26/11/2022)

Sammy Fabelman loves cinema. Together with his friends and family he makes small amateur films and dreams of becoming a director. But then, through his hobby, he uncovers a nasty secret from his loved ones that makes him rethink everything he's ever known. Steven Spielberg delivers a semi-autobiographical story that is moving, funny and above all believable. And while it's also nostalgic and melancholy, it never feels cloying. An honest and audience-friendly drama from a storyteller who understands his job damn well. (24/11/2022)

The Fabelmans is masterfully shot story of film and family that alternates between moments of extraordinary feeling, in which Spielberg manages to depict big things on an intimate scale, and a slightly banal compilation of familiar motifs and tried-and-true pearls of wisdom. I was moved by the film a few times, particularly the moments involving the magnificent duo of Dano and Williams, and when the boyish enthusiasm of amateur films is presented in such a way that it evokes in viewers the feeling that they are watching something almost miraculous. The Fabelmans portrays the medium of film as a double-edged sword that is capable of both healing and ruthlessly inflicting wounds. The film contains a touch of slight yet aching melancholy that doesn’t come across as mushy; Spielberg is still surehanded in that respect. Despite that, however, there is something banally transitory and too comfortable in all of these nice images, as the anecdotal ending demonstrates. The strongest impression is thus left by the relationship between Sam and his parents, which mirrors the pain and loneliness of Spielberg’s child characters. I feel great respect and mild emotion for this film, but unfortunately also doubt as to whether it will actually leave me with more than a fleeting sense of enchantment. (21/11/2022)

An exquisite reminiscence of the childhood and adolescence of an ordinary middle-class family. Spielberg manages to conjure up smiles and tears, joy and sadness with an ease all his own, reminiscing a little of his childhood years when his enthusiasm for moving pictures seemed to be his everything, despite his family's complicated relationship. There's a bit of a problem with pacing and overlong running time, but that's all due to the consistent storytelling and coloring of the characters. The last scene is the best. (13/02/2023)

Grand shots of intimate life struggles and little scenes in which the most important things happen. Steven Spielberg has perhaps never built his classic family backdrops so high, illuminated with all manner of imaginary spotlights, and focused his attention solely on them. What's more, Janusz Kamiński's playful camera loves the landscape, architecture, and people so sincerely that The Fabelmans speaks to me in a much more optimistic language than you would expect from the story and some of its twists. (21/02/2023)