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Review

It's very easy in these heated, culturally divided times to grasp onto films that either sweep aside our differences or heatedly vilify those we perceive as being on "the other side." Lebanon, PA, with its measured, insightful approach, is unlikely to drum up masses of fans or make very much money, but its ability to find common ground between ideologies while exploring seemingly unconquerable divides between them is certainly unique and worth lauding. Through his dedication to finding humanity in both his apparent cultural allies and enemies (for the most part) director Josh Hickernell crafts one of the most thought-provoking films in recent memory.

Will (Josh Hopkins) is lost. The opening sounds of the film are that of a never-seen, soon-to-be-ex-girlfriend telling him he's unable to love anything. Shortly after this verbal lashing, he heads to his job in Center City Philadelphia as an Advertising Account Executive. While in a meeting, he receives a note passed to him by his mother through a secretary that simply reads "DAD - DEAD." The emotional journey that follows this revelation makes up the quiet, subtle arc of Lebanon, PA. Arriving home to find his girlfriend has, in fact, left him, he packs up his small, fuel efficient German car (covered with bumper stickers for liberal causes including one that says "I Vote Pro-Choice") and heads to his father's adopted hometown of rural Lebanon, PA, about two hours from Philadelphia.

In scenic Lebanon, this urbanite Blue Stater finds himself smack in the middle of Red State America complete with cultural conservatives and small town bars. He soon gets to know his distant cousin Andy (Ian Merrill Peakes) a devoutly religious widower raising two teenagers on his own. The two politely talk over dinner despite their obvious differences in values. Will also meets Andy's two teenage kids including CJ (Rachel Kitson). Before too long and despite his passive stand-offishness, CJ's forced her way into Will's empty life and confided in him the secret that will drive the rest of the plot - she's pregnant. In addition to this newfound drama, Will finds himself in a flirtation with Vicki (Samantha Mathis, a married teacher in CJ's school, and finds himself wondering, as he goes through some sort of existential mid-life crisis) if he could, in fact, move to this rural outpost.

Despite its many strengths and restraints, Lebanon, PA is far from a perfect film. Several scenes are poorly executed - the sex scene between Hopkins and Mathis is particularly inept. The subplots involving Will's relationship with his urbanite mother is essentially useless, as would be his affair with Mathis were it not for its usefulness in working out some key plot points late in the film. Further, most of the first act (particularly when Will is still in Philadelphia) feels like the kind of gratuitously quiet filler that fills many indie dramas these days. In fact, less patient viewers, if not clued in to the thought-provoking wonders that lay in store, may, in fact, switch the film off after 10 minutes of boredom. This premature cessation of viewing would, in our opinion, be a mistake for anyone seriously interested in the cultural barriers that divide the United States.

What becomes clear, over time, is that CJ is thinking about aborting her baby. Unfortunately for her, she lives in an area in which the only "choice" in pro-choice is the choice to marry the boy who knocked you up, forego the out of town college you were accepted into and sink into a life of struggle. She sees in Will an outsider who will expose her to the urbanite values he projects on his car and help her to find out what she truly wants to do next. The beautiful irony of this situation is that Will is no liberal hero. In fact, like many supposedly progressive urbanites, he has no desire to tell anyone else how to live their lives. Each time, CJ attempts to get close to him, he retracts. Each time, she tries to solicit his opinion on what she should do, he deflects with the standard "only you can decide" response so typical of cultural relativism. That he drives her to Philadelphia to see the college in which she was accepted only occurs because she tells her father that Will has already agreed.

While there are few villains in Lebanon, PA, it is worth noting that those who do exist in the film are in the pro-life camp. They take the form of a sinister "Pregnancy Counseling Center" worker who "consults" CJ but unethically uses a sonogram in her consultation and growls when CJ still asks to learn more about abortion, and a recurring pro-life protestor who lurks menacingly outside of the "Planned Parenting" center which CJ visits for a different opinion. Some judgmental girls in CJ's high school classes may also qualify. Those villains aside, however, Hickernell takes pains to paint his characters (both left and right) in shades both good and bad. For instance, Andy (CJ's father), in most films made about the cultural divide, would be a one-note caricature of stone age religious orthodoxy. In this film, he is shown to be a desperately hardworking family man who has sacrificed everything for his kids and is still welcoming of his city boy, fish out of water cousin. That he slaps his daughter at the mention of abortion and ends up growing increasingly unhinged at her distance only serve as flaws in a fully-formed character, not the defining traits of the expected rube. Other townsfolk also display unexpected qualities throughout making this film a remarkably broad-minded exercise.

Lebanon, PA's other remarkable quality is its willingness to deal with abortion head-on. Other films that deal with unexpected or teen pregnancies either gloss over the decision whether or not to keep the baby quickly (Juno) or ignore that it is even a decision that crosses the character's mind (Knocked Up). Lebanon, PA spends most of its energy following one young girl as she makes the most difficult decision of her life, all while encountering enormous pressure from her father, her community and her friends. That it does so, tenderly, delicately and with a remarkable emotional honesty, is an incredible achievement.

 -- Daniel Reed