Brave the Dark: A Guiding Light, by Tyler Smith
What makes a movie inspiring? What is it about certain stories that so touch our hearts that we genuinely feel uplifted and hopeful when it’s over? Too often, people seem to think that it’s all about perfect people doing good things resulting in great outcomes. Personally, these types of stories don’t resonate with me, because I have a hard time relating to characters with no flaws. I am much more interested in tales of broken people overcoming adversity by facing their demons and becoming stronger. Damian Harris’s Brave the Dark could easily have been the former, but thankfully avoids the pitfalls that make these stories so hard to connect with on a human level. Instead, it tries to be as honest as it can about its characters’ faults and motivations, making the eventual inspiring outcome more organic and engaging.
Taking place in the mid 1980s, Brave the Dark tells the true story of Nathan Williams (Nicholas Hamilton), a troubled high schooler living out of his car. After losing his parents at an early age, Nathan was passed from one foster home to another, even spending time in an orphanage. By the time we meet him, he is a hard living, smash-and-grab criminal. His teacher, Stan Deen (Jared Harris), is able to see past Nathan’s tough exterior to the sensitive, wounded kid that he is. Stan soon becomes a surrogate father for Nathan, eventually becoming his official guardian, even allowing the boy to live in his house. It’s not long, however, before Nathan’s destructive instincts begin to take a toll on his relationship with Stan, leading to angry arguments and hurtful words. Stan soon realizes that, in order to truly help Nathan they must face the boy’s troubled past together.
True though it is, this story is nonetheless fairly common in film. A troubled youngster gets taken in by a generous adult. Perhaps one of the most notable examples of this in recent years is The Blind Side. However, where that movie opted for sensationalism and simplicity, Brave the Dark chooses to embrace the complexity of this kind of story. It never shies away from the misunderstandings that are inevitable when two very different people start to depend on each other. These characters cannot be summed up in one pitchable half-sentence. These are real people with flaws and character quirks, making it occasionally difficult to relate to – or even sympathize with – their problems. Nathan may secretly have a heart of gold, but we have to deal with some major frustrations in order to reveal it. And Stan’s generosity doesn’t change the fact that he can be a little bumbling and easily flustered.
The script’s commitment to honestly depicting its characters is occasionally hampered by clunky, obvious dialogue. Too often, the writers will resort to simple exposition, relying on the actors to give it some personality. And, at the end of the film, during the regrettable call to action, they don’t even do that. Thankfully, the film itself has two solid lead performances by Harris and Hamilton that go a long way in welcoming us into the story. Hamilton plays Nathan as deeply wounded, which often comes out as anger or distance. Nathan is often very frustrating, but in a way that is organic to the character. We wish that he would just sit down and talk about his past trauma, but he never does. In that way, the character’s distrust of those around him extends to the audience, as well. When the truth finally does come out, it is so horrendous that we retroactively understand why Nathan was so resistant to talking about it. The scene in which he opens up to Stan is a powerful one, even if it does evoke Good Will Hunting a little too flagrantly.
Of course, Nathan needs somebody to push back against that we believe can take it and Jared Harris beautifully crafts a character who is exactly that. His Stan is friendly and unassuming; two words we tend not to associate with heroes. And that’s what makes him so interesting. The parent figures in films like this are often clever, cool, and committed, always ready with just the right snappy thing to say when defending their ward. Finding Forrester, Scent of a Woman and the aforementioned Blind Side feature mentor figures that feel exceedingly written, whereas Stan is just a normal, unremarkable guy who simply sees the opportunity to do some good and does it.
It’s an entirely different kind of hero than we are used to seeing in film. It’s not a powerful person who simply does what comes naturally, but instead an imperfect Average Joe willing to put in the work and frustration and uncertainty that comes with helping another person. It may not be the standard picture of heroism, but it is a much more attainable one. We all wish we could be the superheroes that we see in movies, but the fact is we’re not. For most of us, saving a life requires that we go beyond what we are capable of and ignore our own limitations. This film is a reminder there are people that do this every day, with no real glory or fanfare. If that’s not inspiring, I don’t know what is.
