Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. These emotions would definitely clash in a sequel to Inside Out, but in real life they are the internal steps necessary to help humans grieve. Whether it’s the loss of a loved one, a relationship or even a sentimental object, grief is inevitable. Despite being experienced by everyone, it’s not something that’s often discussed or explored in the media - and for good reason. It’s messy. And no two people grieve the same. In the new film, The Good Half, not only does director Robert Schwartzman highlight that. He dares to show us how grief teaches us to let go, but how it allows us to grow too.

 

The film follows a young man named Renn (played by Nick Jonas), as he returns to his hometown for his mother’s funeral. Amidst his mourning, he is forced to deal with problems from his past, but also meets a young woman who gives him hope for the future.

 

From the very beginning of the film, we know just how close Renn and his mother Lily (played by Elisabeth Shue) are. The opening scene is actually a flashback to a time when she left him alone for a brief period of time. Although she eventually came back, Renn is deeply upset. Although she does her best to console him, she offers him a promise that no parent can truly ever deliver. She tells him she’ll never leave him. Flash forward to present day, and she’s broken that promise. After getting a call about her passing from cancer, Renn is obviously distraught. But he’s not consumed by sadness. That’s because he hasn’t let his mother go. Not because he doesn’t want to, but rather because he’s at least partially mature enough to realize that your loved ones never really leave you.

 

Throughout the film, writer Brett Ryland offers a couple of different ways to interpret the title. But the one that makes the most sense is Renn’s. The good half is a euphemism for the positive moments he shared with his mom over the course of her life. As beautiful as those moments are, we can feel them slipping through his grasp. This is demonstrated beautifully by both Schwartzman’s direction and the film’s editing. For example, there are moments where Renn is very clearly in the present. Then in a moment’s instant he is transported to the past. There’s one very specific scene in the film where he opens a door in his old home and he sees his mother on the other side. It’s a subtle moment, but it’s an emotional gut punch for anyone who has ever found themselves hanging on a memory of a lost loved one after being triggered by a scent or a sound.

 

The film may not be the best film about grief, but it is one of the most relatable. And not just because of how Renn processes it, but the rest of the characters too. Rounding out the cast is Brittany Snow, Matt Walsh, David Arquette and Alexandra Shipp. Snow plays Renn’s sister Leigh. Walsh plays Renn’s biological dad, Darren. Arquette plays his stepdad, Rick. And Shipp plays Zoey, the young woman Renn meets on his way back home. 

 

Besides the opening scene, it’s established early on that Renn had a particularly close relationship with his mom. In fact, you could say that the two had a bulletproof bond. And so the other characters are not just grieving her and what she meant to them, but they are also grieving the fact that they never got to spend as much time with her. At one point in the film, Leigh openly admits to Renn that she always knew he was “the favorite.” Darren mourns the life they could have had together. And Rick feels bad because of his choice to be absent during Lily’s battle with cancer. Now, Zoey obviously has no connection to Renn’s mom, but it is revealed early on that she is in the process of getting divorced and grieving her marriage. Her inclusion in the story is particularly important because it proves that grief is universal, and that sometimes it takes for you to join in somebody else’s pain to overcome your own. All deliver performances that are not only great, but unlike what they have previously done. This is most obvious with Walsh, who is particularly sentimental, and Arquette really puts the “Rick” in prick.

 

As profound as the film or its performances are, there are still some issues. The most noticeable being the film’s music. It’s not that the music is bad, however, it doesn’t always match the film’s tone. This is most obvious during the film’s final scene. Additionally, the film meanders a bit during the third act. Granted the film reaches a natural climax during Lily’s funeral, but afterwards there is a series of interactions that feel more procedural - and necessary for the story to end - than natural. 

 

But not even those flaws can detract from what the film has to say about the grief. Pain may be inevitable, but it’s only a fraction of the human experience. Without it, we can’t learn and we can’t grow. But as long as we carry those lessons with us - and the memory of those who taught them to us - life is wholly worth it.