The following review originally ran on Starpulse.com in 2015.
Writer/director Oren Moverman’s drama Time Out of Mind makes a definitive artistic statement about how we treat the homeless in the United States. His film contends that we view the homeless as inhuman and willfully ignore their existence. It also argues that our indifference has created a societal system that prevents them from breaking out of their situation. These main points are thoroughly reinforced by the movie’s story and by how it is shot and edited.
Moverman shoots much of the film with hidden cameras, where we either observe the lead character (Richard Gere) from a distance. Your separation from him implies that the character is someone that you’re not supposed to identify with. Moverman’s method of shooting doesn’t just make that indirect point, it makes a direct one as well. His hidden camera captures how people naturally react to this man. They walk right by him while he’s begging for change as if he doesn’t exist. The fact that no one realizes this man is actually Richard Gere speaks volumes about little attention the average person pays to the homeless.
Another way that Moverman’s footage demonstrates how we ignore the homeless is in how it’s edited. Moverman uses lots of loud ambient New York City sounds, which include phone conversations near Richard Gere’s character. Most people can’t be bothered to acknowledge him. Everyone in the city is too busy callously carrying on their own lives. They mainly just notice him to ridicule him or to say he can’t do something. In fact, so few people engage him that you don’t even learn his name until over 40 minutes into the film, when a social worker finally addresses him as “Mr. Hammond.”
When we first meet Mr. Hammond, or George as you come to know him, he wakes up in the apartment he’s squatting in, unsure of how he got there. Contractors who have arrived to renovate the apartment kick him out. George tries several spots to find a new place he can sleep, but eventually realizes he must go to a homeless shelter to survive. After he arrives at one, he struggles to establish a sense of normalcy since he deals with mental health issues and alcoholism.
George tries to get back on his feet again, but the system prevents him from doing so. He needs a social security card, which he can’t get without a birth certificate, and he can’t get a birth certificate without an ID, something he doesn’t have because he lost his wallet. All of his travels to various social service offices are in vain because no one shows any understanding or compassion. Only a scant few people show him any empathy in the film. His estranged daughter (Jena Malone) isn’t one of them however. She treats him like he barely exists, which is heartbreaking to watch.
Time Out of Mind makes a compelling statement, but its story is uneventful and its pacing is slow. In two hours, you don’t feel like much happens other than the same vicious cycle of alcoholism George perpetuates and the constant indifference people show toward his plight. In some ways that might be point onto itself, however it’s one that might agitate you as a viewer. If you’re the kind of person who doesn’t mind a quiet film where not much happens, this movie’s commentary on the homeless will resonate with you in spite of its plot. Although if you think you’d be bored by its lack of significant action, Time Out of Mind is probably not for you, even though it has a noble message.