Directed by Fisher Stevens
Written by Cheryl Guerriero
Starring Justin Timberlake, June Squibb, Juno Temple
Runtime: 1 hour 40 minutes
MPAA rating: R for language, some sexual content/nudity and brief violence
Now available on AppleTV+

by Ryan Silberstein, Managing Editor, The Red Herring

Even as film lovers, sometimes we shy away from movies that resemble real life because we need escape. We need to zoom among the stars or follow larger-than-life heroes. Unless they are arriving at the hands of a renowned auteur like Hirokazu Koreeda or Ken Loach, it can be hard to make time for smaller dramas. Palmer serves as a reminder that there is still room for these films.

Eddie Palmer (Justin Timberlake) returns home after over a decade in prison, moving in with his grandmother, Vivian (June Squibb). After so much time away, Eddie, who prefers to be called by his last name, struggles to reintegrate into his hometown. While he is able to get a job as a school janitor and reconnect with some friends, he seems more like a ghost. The Palmer people recognize is gone, replaced with someone who is changed. Meanwhile, his friends–the ones who were able to evade arrest that fateful night–seem like they haven’t matured at all.

Shelly (Juno Temple) and her son, Sam (Ryder Allen) live in a trailer on Vivian’s front lawn. Soon after he arrives home, Shelly and Palmer have a tryst that believably captures the intense urgency one must feel after twelve years. When she disappears on another drug-induced bender, Sam comes under the care of Palmer and Vivian. The relationship between Palmer and Sam becomes the core of the film, a sort of Louisiana take on The Mandalorian, with a man thrust into the role of a surrogate father and coping by trying his best to understand his charge.

Besides his difficult home life, Sam is also a boy who has zero compunction when it comes to acting outside of the stereotypical expectations around his gender. His favorite cartoon is about a bunch of magical princesses, he enjoys tea parties, and when at a football game, has the urge to pantomime along with the cheerleaders. Of course, this makes him a target to boys in his class and their homophobic fathers. While convenient in the sense that Palmer is able to unleash some of his resentment against morally appropriate targets, it is the way Palmer interacts with Sam that hit me in my gooey center.

He does his best to try to explain the actions of other males and protect him, but never fully intends to suppress Sam’s identity. Thankfully, writer Cheryl Guerriero and director Fisher Stevens never seek to assign Sam a gender or sexual orientation. He’s a 12 year old, and he likes what he likes. That’s the extent of it for now, but watching Palmer support him feels as though that support, no matter what, lies in Sam’s future.

It would be easy to dismiss the film–and my reaction to it–as corny schmaltz. But whether it’s the grounded performances of both Timberlake and Allen, or the film’s refusal to look down on any of its characters, the sincerity comes right through. More than that, it speaks to the power of seeing this kind of acceptance on screen. No matter how someone is deemed “different” or othered, watching this kind of acceptance–especially from a man–in a story, will land powerfully. Is Palmer stylish or radically new? No. But examples of good fathers are important in so many ways. Palmer shows that pushing back against toxic masculinity requires more than words, and how to love someone even when they aren’t who you expect.