Wow. I just saw the first Ben Kingsley performance I've liked since, 2000's "Sexy Beast."
No, that can't be right. Sir Ben has been in a lot of movies since then, 2002's "Tuck Everlasting," 2003's "House of Sand and Fog," 2008's "Elegy," I probably liked him in something. But maybe you take my point, for the last few decades or so, Kingsley has become synonymous with a certain kind of showy, actorly performance -- even when he's technically very good, as he was as Fagin in Roman Polanski's take on "Oliver Twist," he's not exactly been a subtle performer. Even when he's slumming (as he often does), there's always a sense that he's taking himself veddy veddy seriously.
He's just not a low-key guy.
Except, he is here, in this somewhat unpromising science fiction comedy that was no doubt elevator-pitched as "'E.T.' for seniors."
"Jules" has a simple premise. A friendly -- or at least nonthreatening alien -- crash lands in the yard of a somewhat doddering 78-year-old citizen in a small western Pennsylvania town, flattening the poor man's azaleas. Milton (Kingsley in an obvious and unflattering wig that somehow seems endearing -- I halfway convinced myself it was the character who put on the wig and not the makeup department) immediately calls 911, but the operator warns him that making prank calls to emergency services is a felony and shines him on. So he takes her advice and goes back to sleep.
But the next morning, Milton discovers a weakened and possibly injured humanoid creature (stunt performer Jade Quon, who turns in a beautifully calibrated, wordless performance) in the spaceship wreckage. Milton does the decent thing and takes him and a blanket and some water and eventually moves him into his house where he discovers his E.T. is fond of apples.
Milton's friends Joyce (the always welcome Jane Curtin) and Sandy (Harriet Sansom Harris) soon discover the alien in Milton's company, and dub him "Jules." He's a gentle and self-effacing sort, a quiet companion for Milton to watch TV with when he's not trying to repair his spaceship. Jules doesn't speak, but he seems to have a surfeit of emotional intelligence and some psychic ability. His puppy eyes fix on whoever is talking, he both enlists and exudes empathy.
Of course, the three elderly humans adopt him as kind of a mascot and decide to try to help him get back to wherever it is he belongs. Even if it means collecting cat corpses, which for some reason are essential to the rebuilding of his space craft.
This is of course terribly silly and twee but the three principle actors deftly pull it off. They all -- even Kingsley -- underplay their roles, seeming natural and unaffected even when called upon to deliver potentially problematic lines. There's a throwaway moment early on, when Joyce is advocating for pickleball courts before the town council that feels so honest and unforced you might forget you're watching a scripted play. Curtin plays the slight nervousness and eagerness to please of a person not used to public speaking with a beautiful delicacy. It's overkill: the scene is simply to establish that these senior citizens have plenty of time on their hands -- but it's a sweet grace note.
Milton is a similarly credible construction; that his brain is slightly befogged is signaled by his repetitive appeals to the council to amend the town's motto (he points out that saying the town is a "good place to call home" could be interpreted as meaning it's a good place to -- a la E.T. -- phone home from) and his brusque inattention to the thoughtful overtures of his daughter Denise (Zoe Winters, who you may recognize as Logan Roy's final girlfriend in "Succession").
Quirky and sweet, "Jules" has a. certain predictability and Gavin Steckler's screenplay at times strains a little too hard, but nothing about it feels like anything less than an earnest choice. And all the performances -- maybe especially Quon's silent turn as the title character -- are calibrated, playful and in tune.