Robot & Frank isn’t a deep or complex film. It’s neither groundbreaking nor cutting edge. But it just about perfectly realizes its aspirations as a piece of cinema. We should only wish all mainstream films were this well done.
Set in the very foreseeable future, Frank (played by Frank Langella) is a one-time jewel-thief who’s never quite lost his taste for the action. But as he ages, his memory is deserting him, making his daily life increasingly difficult to manage. His son (James Marsden) has been making weekly 10-hour roundtrips to see him, but it’s not enough, so he brings Frank a robot caretaker.
With this sort of set-up, you can’t help but expect the robot (voiced by Peter Sarsgaard) to become self-conscious and for the audience to presented (if not bludgeoned) with philosophical questions about what constitutes being alive/human, but screenwriter Christopher D. Ford doesn’t drag us there. As the robot itself reminds Frank on multiple occasions—for Frank does develop feelings for his companion—the robot is not a person, and it does not feel. As our electronic devices become ever more intuitive and interactive, it’s a timely fictional glance at a real-world issue.
But Robot & Frank is primarily a piece of storytelling, both funny and quietly touching as it reveals to us how Frank’s robot comes to be his partner in crime, a partnership that leaves Frank invigorated. Sadly, it’s a vigor that cannot preserve his memory. “You’re our connection to the past, buddy,” an obnoxious, acquisitive, young yuppie (Jeremy Strong) tells Frank early in the film. But Frank’s connection to the past ain’t what it used to be. And there’s no coming back.
Langella’s performance is so understated you almost miss how much craft he brings to the role. But when catch yourself feeling Frank’s joy and sadness, his resolution and confusion, and his own ruminations on what his robot pal is and means to him, even though Langella may have done little more than raise an eyebrow or let his voice trail off, you realize what a neat trick he’s pulled off.
There’s not an element of the production that isn’t successful. This may be director Jake Schreier’s feature-length debut, but he shows the good sense to stay within himself and out of the way of the narrative, resulting in an end product that is just what it ought to be.
There are films that are brilliant and thought-provoking, demanding to be puzzled over for their themes and aesthetics, staying with you for days or weeks or perhaps your whole life. Then there are completely disposable films, 90 minutes of distraction that you may as well have never seen the moment you step out of the theater. Robot & Frank is a great example of something that falls firmly in the middle of the spectrum. And holds its place there admirably, carefully considered and lovingly realized. Whatever job you’re going to do, do it well. Robot & Frank embodies that ethos.
Now playing at the Art Theatre of Long Beach, 2025 E. 4th Street, LB 90804. For more info call (562) 438-5435 or visit arttheatrelongbeach.com.