Captain Fantastic

It might sound like the latest big-budget superhero saga, but Captain Fantastic isn’t about superpowers or special effects. In fact, its lead character would probably rail against them if given the chance.

Instead, this provocative drama examines outsider belief systems through an iconoclastic family that lives defiantly off the grid. More specifically, it asks what might drive a parent and his kids to leave mainstream society, and what it takes to bring them back.

The father in question is Ben (Viggo Mortensen), whose anti-capitalist views have caused him to retreat to the Oregon woods with his six children while his wife battles a mysterious illness. He puts the kids through grueling physical and intellectual schooling that includes everything from weapons training to political ideology, even for the youngest.

But what are his rigid methods doing to the kids? Is he oppressing or protecting them? Collectively, they’re smart if socially awkward, and they don’t rebel because they don’t know any other way. The oldest (George Mackay) is a teenager with secret dreams of attending college, but even he embraces the lifestyle.

Nevertheless, their treatment is an issue that causes considerable friction with his father-in-law (Frank Langella), who has a different philosophy on proper parenting that he’ll go to great lengths to enforce.

The sharply observed screenplay by actor-turned-director Matt Ross (28 Hotel Rooms) is leisurely paced but rewards patience. It’s both amusing and unsettling, and able to elicit both sympathy and disdain.

The film has an audacious satirical edge, poking fun at democracy and religion with gleeful abandon. For example, instead of Christmas, the family celebrates Noam Chomsky Day, honoring the birthday of the radical activist. When one of his kids mentions Jesus, Ben questions why they would believe in a “fictitious, mythical elf.”

Beneath that coarse philosophy is an offbeat charm, as Captain Fantastic also is a heartfelt exploration of fractured families and the grieving process. However, it nearly loses its momentum with a series of final-act contrivances that lead to a muddled and sentimental climax.

Yet the film succeeds best as an even-handed character study, anchored by Mortensen’s ferocious performance as a stubborn malcontent who obstinately defends his methods. By contrast, the film refuses to pass judgment or offer easy answers, which makes its most powerful statement of all.

Rated R, 118 minutes.