The stiff-lipped and emotionally withdrawn Macon Leary (William Hurt) writes travel guide books. He is known as the Accidental Tourist and writes about how to travel to other places without ever feeling homesick, specifically for the traveling businessman. Macon writes with organizing skill about all the do's and don'ts of travel such as taking a carry-on bag, small envelopes of laundry detergent, where to find American food in foreign countries, etc. He is detailed and organized, stating in his books the decent hotel plumbing in some European cities. Other than scoffing at the idea of bringing private mementos that could be lost in a trip, you wouldn't suspect that Macon is a hurting, despondent man who lost his young son years ago and has an unhappy home with his wife who is seeking a divorce.
"The Accidental Tourist" almost reads like an adaptation of a Russell Banks novel though it is not as despairing. Anne Tyler's very masterfully delicate and emotional novel is beautifully adapted by writer-director Lawrence Kasdan and neither handles this material as simply a family tragedy. The depressing notion of losing a child in a senseless act of violence is not treated as an afterthought but as a prism for this married couple who have been unable to cope with each other. Kathleen Turner as Sarah Leary, Macon's soon-to-be-divorced wife, has been unable to live another day without feeling morose. Macon has been suffering yet it is suffering in muted fashion - he keeps going on but has not provided comfort for his wife during this agonizing ordeal. When Sarah reveals she is leaving him, his feelings slowly come to the surface though he still keeps them confined through his own anger at her. Quick moments of harshness and anger inform Macon - he is not an easy man to love or to hate. Macon has the self-knowledge of his loneliness and misery yet he wishes not to articulate his feelings.
What is deeply trenchant about the film are not just the complex emotions but also the humorous touches. Macon lives in good old Baltimore and stays with his siblings briefly after breaking his leg (Sarah can't take care of him since she lives in an apartment, so it is up to Macon's matronly sister, Rose). The Learys are just as organized in their habits as Macon is. Sincere Rose (Amy Wright) places food items in the cabinet in alphabetical order. The two brothers, Porter and Charles (the perfectly cast Daniel Ogden Stiers and Ed Begley, Jr.), are orderly to some degree and play card games every night after supper. I love that Kasdan spends a little time with these brothers and the spirited sister, to show that Macon's indifference to emotions comes from somewhere. There is relentless telephone ringing in their house which they never answer, even if Porter might be calling since he gets lost frequenting to the hardware store.
Just as beguiling is the introduction of Muriel Pritchett (a gloriously kooky and sympathetic performance by Geena Davis) who works at an animal hospital and knows how to make dogs obey commands. Since Macon's dog, a corgi, has recently bit him, he takes up Muriel's offer to train the dog. This, of course, develops into a romance but not immediately. Macon turns down Muriel's dinner invite and, in a very powerful scene, tells her about the loss of his son and his inability to move past it. William Hurt conveys everything about Macon's inability to socialize, to have friends, resisting intimacy, etc. It is a performance showing such quiet regret that it is easily my favorite Hurt performance.
"The Accidental Tourist" always stayed with me and felt genuine with its bottled emotions from the Learys, and Davis's Oscar winning performance as a woman who wishes to help others. She is the real article, a woman who knows who she is and what she wants. Macon eventually comes out of his shell. It is a revelation in every way and, yes, a superbly revealing film that is very closely connected with the Anne Tyler novel (a smooth, mesmerizing read for book lovers). "The Accidental Tourist" is something I needed to unknowingly revisit now in my fifties and I am glad I did.
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