I hate to see that evening sun go down

THAT EVENING SUN (2009)

Southerner by birth, author William Gay was probably inspired by his own upbringing while penning his collection of short stories, “I Hate to See That Evening Sun Go Down”. We could also assume that he was influenced by William Faulkner’s “That Evening Sun”, a dark depiction of the post-antebellum period, and then go on to posit that Faulkner’s title derives from a lyric in W.H. Handy’s popular blues song “St. Louis Blues”. Needless to say, “That Evening Sun”, in its many variations, has a history firmly entrenched in Southern theme, and in Scott Teems’ screen adaptation, this tone remains undeniably present.

Hal Holbrook, who delivered an Oscar-nominated performance in 2007’s Into the Wild, arguably exhibits the superior performance here as nursing home escapee and former Tennessee landowner Abner Meecham. After bribing, then hitching a ride with a cabbie, Abner is escorted back to his old country farm with the intent of living out his final days away from the nursing home bustle, but to blatant disapproval, Abner is greeted by Lonzo Choat (Ray McKinnon), Abner’s archenemy of sorts, and his family, who the house and land have been leased to. What causes greater frustration is that the property was leased by Abner's own son (Walton Goggins) without his knowledge or consent. Riled up, the ex-Tennessee farmer decides to lodge in an old tenant house on the property in protest against Lonzo, creating a stubborn grudge match between the two, neither intending to leave.

We could sketch a Venn diagram with Abner and Lonzo in mind, and while skimming over the blaring differences, come upon several similarities. They both share an ardor in their resolve and both can be seen as either protagonist or antagonist; Abner seeks to rid his home of the Choats and Lonzo wants to see Abner on the curb. The two incessantly criticize and mentally berate one another throughout the course of the film, and their views toward each other are essential, serving as an embodiment of the story’s major themes.

Abner holds zero reliance in Lonzo’s empty pledges of maintaining the land and harvesting crops, basing his stance on Lonzo’s history of being a lazy, destructive redneck. Lonzo holds his own unreserved doubts in Abner’s ability to maintain the farm and often ridicules Abner, calling him old, weak and incapable. Ironically enough, by the end, both enemies emerge from the hell they put themselves through with a less cynical take on life. In the scheme of things, Evening Sun is a tale of life evaluation and embracing change.

On the technical end of Evening Sun, the cinematography brilliantly complements the rural scenery, and from someone raised partially in the south, I was impressed with how Teems transformed an otherwise shabby, homely backdrop into something quite alluring; many of the scenes that reel along without dialogue look fresh out of a Julian Onderdonk painting. Shot on location in Knoxville, Teems shields this prosaic environment from the outside world and transfixes his audience with keen mastery. The story itself, told at a reasonable pace, suffers a smidgen from its occasionally stilted script, although this is only a minor hindrance. The actors, however, are perfectly cast and while Holbrook showcases a better effort here than in Sean Penn’s feature, Ray McKinnon steals the show. Simply told, and with remarkable imagery, That Evening Sun is a burgeoning breeze that swells, fades, then reappears for a warm farewell.

8.5/10