Documentarian's family saga a dreary tale

NEW YORK (Hollywood Reporter) - Maybe it's something in the water in Long Island's Queens and Nassau counties, but such documentaries as "51 Birch Street," "Capturing the Friedmans" and "Crazy Love" have introduced us to seemingly familiar New York-area families, only to reveal corners that were dark (in the case of "Birch"), disturbing and pathological ("Friedmans") and flat-out crazed and nutty ("Crazy Love").

In "Phyllis and Harold," a look at her parents, now deceased, filmmaker Cindy Kleine hits a mushy, murky, mediocre middle ground. Like many of their peers, Phyllis and Harold Kleine came from Manhattan's impoverished Lower East Side and made it to the suburbs, where they achieved a life of material comfort that included a beautifully landscaped house, nanny, and much international travel. Credit Harold's success as a dentist and the new money his career generated.

Via interviews with her mother and father, who tend not to be in the same shot, we learn that their love letters were effusive but that the 59-year marriage that ensued was a grave disappointment, especially to Phyllis. She groans, grimaces and complains as she reveals the great love of her life with whom she cheated during the very early and very late years of her marriage.

Harold, on the other hand, is the poster child for denial. Seemingly numbed and clueless, he views the marriage positively.

If Phyllis did not enjoy the long marital ride, the problem for viewers might be that even an hour-plus with these two could be too much. In fact, none of the family members is great company, as eloquence, self-knowledge and empathy are in short supply. Box-office prospects are limited for the film, which opened Friday (February 19) via Rainbow Releasing.

The only spark here is Phyllis' adulterous affair, but with no clues to the identity, personality or character of the mysterious -- and married -- lover, he never comes to life in any way. Yes, Phyllis convincingly pines for him, and daughters Cindy and Ricky collude in keeping the affair a secret from their father. Apparently, their cooperation, which included helping Phyllis secretly doll up for trysts at Ricky's apartment, was critical because Harold micromanaged the family finances, monitoring credit cards and phone calls.

After Harold dies, Phyllis moves easily into the next phase of her life in nice assisted-living quarters in downtown Manhattan. She fails in her effort to reconnect with her lover and expresses not an iota of remorse at her husband's passing. Love, wedded to her affair and not to her marriage, has nothing to do with family. "He showed me the world" is her only clue as to why she went the 59-year distance with Harold.

Made over many years, "Phyllis and Harold" offers the requisite home movies and photographs evoking lives lived decades ago. But the archival material provides no more than lighter family moments, including Phyllis and Harold's far-flung travels. Many presumed friends and other family members go unidentified.

Fortunately, Lisa Crafts' colorful animation intermittently brings welcome charm and life to this otherwise dreary tale.

So what is it about? The lessons that emerge are that families aren't what they seem, aging alters us, and true and lasting love is rare. Who knew?