Will Ferrell can act
In his best performance yet, Ferrell discovers that a man’s front yard is his castle in Everything Must Go
Will Ferrell stars in Everything Must Go, and for the briefest instant, the alcoholism-themed dramedy resembles a downbeat sequel to Old School, with Ferrell’s Frank “The Tank” Ricard facing realistic consequences for his hard-partying.
Writer/director Dan Rush adapted the film from Raymond Carver’s short story of the same name. Carver’s quiet, minimalist prose might seem a poor fit with Ferrell’s high-decibel comic style. But Ferrell proves ready for the role. Over the years, the flailing funnyman has played more low-key parts to build his artistic cred in films such as Winter Passing and Stranger Than Fiction. He’s clearly built on those experiences. In Everything Must Go, Ferrell mostly internalizes the sorrow and rage of alcoholic sales executive Nick Halsey to deliver his subtlest, deepest performance yet.
During the film’s introductory scenes, Nick loses his corporate job for unspecified reasons clearly tied to a history of alcohol abuse. On the way home he loads up on PBR, only to discover that his wife has dumped all of their belongings on the front yard, changed the locks and vanished. To complete his dispossession, Nick finds that his runaway spouse also blocked his bank accounts and credit cards, while the repo man takes his company car.
In a combination of inertia and defiance, Nick converts his lawn into his living space rather than find somewhere else to crash. He chugs beer in full view of his neighbors and sleeps in his armchair until the sprinkler awakens him in the morning. Everything Must Go exploits the physical comedy of the predicament as Nick pisses in the backyard koi pond and drunkenly attempts to master long-forgotten exercise equipment. His AA sponsor (Michael Peña) points out that as long as Nick claims to be holding a yard sale, he can live that way for five days before risking arrest.
“I’m no different than any of you. I just don’t hide in my house,” Nick declares at one point. He gains a new perspective on his neighbors’ lives of quiet desperation, including the pregnant woman (Rebecca Hall) who moves in across the street and a lonely African-African boy named Kenny (Christopher Jordan Wallace). Kenny helps Nick sell his possessions for beer money, and Nick reluctantly teaches Kenny how to play baseball and learn the secrets of salesmanship. The team-up of a grown-up misanthrope and an innocent kid might be a cliché, but Everything Must Go keeps the sentiment under control.
Rush’s screenplay is cagey about Nick’s misdeeds, so we don’t know whether he deserves the mistreatment from his wife and former company. Nick can barely even answer that question, as he can’t remember some of the best and worst moments of his life, largely due to his drinking. Ferrell tamps down his usual bluster, and his sullen silences convey guilt and wounded pride even more than his line-readings.
Everything Must Go provides an excellent example of a film that contains a comic actor’s live-wire instincts to ingenious effect. Since movie audiences expect Ferrell to cut loose, his coiled posture and seething expression hints at explosive emotions just below the surface. And his performance is more than just a gimmick of casting. Despite the outlandish premise, Everything Must Go uses alcoholism to represent a more pervasive sorrow in contemporary America. Ferrell taps surprisingly charged emotions not by reveling in self-destruction, but by softly conveying the hard work of putting a life back together.