Jim Gaffigan stars as Cameron Edwin, an affable, bespectacled nerd who hosts a local kids science show that\u2019s been languishing in a late-night timeslot far past most children\u2019s bedtimes. He never achieved his dreams of being an astronaut, and he struggles to connect with both his wife, Erin (Rhea Seehorn), and their teenage daughter, Nora (Katelyn Nacon). He\u2019s at a low point when he sees a car crash from the sky with his doppelg\u00e4nger in the driver\u2019s seat. When a satellite falls into his backyard, it initially seems like another disaster is befalling him. Yet Cameron takes the opportunity to rebuild it, getting closer to his dreams of exploring space and giving him one last chance to make his mark on the world. Meanwhile, Nora forms a friendship with the new kid in town (Gabriel Rush), finally finding kinship with someone at her high school.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Layers exist in Linoleum<\/em>; it offers thoughtful insights about the worries that your life hasn\u2019t turned out the way you thought it would, while it also engages in something even more profound. The movie resonates more deeply for me at 41 than it likely would have at 21, and it probably would hit even harder at ages 61 and 81. It treats each of its characters \u2014 who are all in different stages of life \u2014 with empathy. It\u2019s gently funny, just as you\u2019d expect from a movie with Gaffigan ably playing the dual roles of Cameron and the new, improved version of his character, but it doesn\u2019t hesitate to go dark either. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Linoleum <\/em>isn\u2019t just thoughtful in its approach to its themes and ideas, with its attention to detail evident on screen. Ed Wu shoots the movie with care, capturing saturated colors and gorgeous lighting, ensuring that the style is on level with the substance. July Rose White\u2019s costumes provide characterizations and lean into the movie\u2019s retro aesthetic. It\u2019s immediately clear who Cameron is when we glimpse him riding down the suburban road on his bike, pedaling with his chukkas while wearing a tweed jacket with elbow patches. <\/p>\n\n\n\n For all its surprises, this is not a puzzle box of a movie that wants you to solve it. (Despite Google\u2019s search results teasing you with, \u201cPeople also ask \u2018What is the movie Linoleum about?\u2019\u201d) Instead, it\u2019s as intent on the questions as on the answers, devoting as much attention to the journey as the destination. Linoleum <\/em>is a lovely little film that\u2019s full of big ideas and bigger emotions, defying categorization and feeling like something all its very own. <\/p>\n\n\n\n “Linoleum” is out Friday in limited release.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/02\/lineoleum2-1024x431.png\")
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Not everything fully coheres, but that isn\u2019t to say that Linoleum<\/em> doesn\u2019t work. Its gaps and lingering questions align with its intentions, swelling the film\u2019s emotional impact. (Or was it just my face that was swollen after I audibly sobbed?) It creeps up on you, transforming from something interesting to something truly special during its third act.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\nA-<\/strong><\/h1>\n\n\n\n