In writer-director Colin West’s Linoleum, the youthful dreams of Jim Gaffigan’s character are the foundation the film builds itself upon as it blurs the lines between what is real and what is not. Linoleum is ambitious in its efforts and heartbreaking in its character study. While the film doesn’t always soar to its potential, it offers a fascinating, resplendent look at regret and how one can cling to the untapped potential of their youth.
Cameron Edwin (Gaffigan) is going through a midlife crisis. He’s the host of a science show for kids, but he’s getting the boot after Ken Armstrong (also played by Gaffigan), a seemingly more charismatic choice for the position, rolls unexpectedly into town. There’s something about Ken that is decidedly irksome, but Cameron takes notice primarily because they share an uncanny resemblance to each other — and because Ken literally dropped from the sky in his car. Cameron, who wanted to become an astronaut as a kid, never quite lived up to his father’s expectations. But when a satellite crashes into his backyard, Cameron decides to build a rocket to fulfill that dream, even if it goes so far as to further alienate his wife Erin (Rhea Seehorn), whose own dreams left her wanting to achieve something “fantastic,” no matter what they might be.
Linoleum has all the trappings of an incredible movie. It’s ambitious and strings several meaningful themes that come together quite wonderfully in the end. At the same time, the film does waste precious time lingering on the mysteries of what’s going on and only pays them off at the last moment. It’s emotionally effective, but there could have also been so much more depth added to the middle of the film to support such an outstanding finale. West is focused primarily on the regret that Cameron harbors for not pursuing what he’s always wanted to do. It seems like such a natural thing for someone to look back on their life at a certain point and realize that maybe things didn’t pan out the way they were expecting.
And yet, Cameron’s preoccupation with his past and building a rocket becomes less grounded in reality as the film goes on, reaching into the surreal as he gets advice from his father’s physician (Tony Shalhoub) about “the universe our heads” being more real than reality itself. That’s the first clue that things aren’t what they seem in Linoleum, and what transpires thereafter is a blend of timelines and moments from Cameron’s life that come together quite exquisitely. It’s just the journey to get there doesn’t always feel as cohesive or as deep as it could be. The film gets lost in its focus on Nora (Katelyn Nacon), Cameron and Erin’s daughter, and her relationship with Marc (Gabriel Rush), Ken’s son. And though West reveals exactly why the film deviates to center them later on, the detour doesn’t always feel authentic to the story being told.
Gaffigan is a standout as Cameron (and as Ken), infusing the former with childlike wonder and dreaming and the latter with stern disconnection. Cameron is often confused, but he’s adamant about wanting to build a rocket, and it’s here that West excels in exploring the character’s mindset, hinting at something bizarre going on. The idea that a dream can continue to live on in one’s memory, a desire for something more out of a life that, at certain points, may not have been fulfilling enough, is an emotionally effective one that anyone can relate to. To that end, Linoleum is filled with nostalgia — brought to life by the dreamlike, vivid cinematography by Ed Wu — and the overlapping of memories, the mind losing itself, and the fulfillment of a fantasy that feels incredibly out of reach. Not everything comes together so smoothly or cohesively, but the film is a solid effort nonetheless.
Linoleum had its premiere at the SXSW Film Festival on March 12, 2022. The film is 101 minutes long and is not yet rated.