Stream It Or Skip It: ‘Our Son’ on Peacock, Starring Luke Evans as Half of a Fractured Gay Couple in a Lightly Poignant Drama

Our Son (now streaming on Peacock) is a fairly straightforward drama about a broken family in which the splitting parents just happen to be gay. That’s a fresh wrinkle on an old idea explored by director Bill Oliver, who, co-writing with Peter Nickowitz, ruminates on the emotional chaos of a couple that was once united by love for each other, but is now only held together by their mutual love for their child. We’ve pretty much seen this story before, either on the big screen or part of/peripheral to our own lives – and it’s the latter point that makes the movie feel relevant.

OUR SON: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

The Gist: Owen (Christopher Woodley) is doing some Adorable Kid Shit: Wearing a bedazzled ballcap that reads BROOKLYN, dancing with his classmates during a mini recital. His “Papa,” Gabriel (Billy Porter) watches in delight, while his “Daddy,” Nicky (Luke Evans) skates in a little bit late. Gabriel is a bit annoyed by this, but Nicky made it, and that counts for something. It’s not at all an unforgivable parental offense, but the unspoken subtext here reads, this married couple is not on the same page. They get home to the contemporary two-level apartment that Nicky’s fairly lucrative publishing job pays for; Gabriel quit being an actor to be the fairly stereotypical stay-at-home parent who goes to yoga class in between PTA meetings, grocery shopping and dropoffs and pickups from school. You can see the roles here – Gabriel does the majority of parental heavy lifting, and Nicky puts in the extra hours at the office to pay the mortgage and insurance and grocery bills. This is far from an abnormal family dynamic. It’s familiar, everyday stuff for many of us.

But again – these two aren’t on the same page. Gabriel is clearly closer to Owen, and feels like Nicky is more absent than present as a father. Nicky thinks Gabriel is too lenient with the boy, and doesn’t appreciate the work he puts in to provide for them. There’s plenty of love in the room, but fissures are starting to show, and they’re getting wider. Gabriel and Nicky attend a dinner party where they learn that their lesbian friends are pregnant, which is poignant and sweet, and reflects on their own dynamic, but Nicky also comes precariously close to starting a fight with Gabriel in front of everyone. That night, Gabriel confesses: He’s met someone. They had agreed not to have an open relationship so they could focus on each other and Owen, but, well, it happened. Now what?

This is what: Their 13-year marriage is ending. Gabriel takes the reins and calls a divorce lawyer. Nicky resists. Arguments escalate. Owen cries in his bedroom. Gabriel’s outside affair falls apart. Nicky insists he’s a good father, and admits there’s room for improvement. Gabriel shares some hard truths with Owen, because he refuses to hide things from the boy. Nicky breaks down and meets with a sympathetic sweetheart of a lawyer (Robin Weigert). Gabriel tries to talk about custody. Nicky resists. Gabriel looks for a job and finds an apartment. Nicky tries to be home for Owen more often. They have their first hearing with the lawyers, and it goes poorly. Who deserves what, and why, and how? Will they end up in court? Will bitterness or understanding prevail?

What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: Our Son is a lighter-weight, contemporary version of divorce dramas like Kramer vs. Kramer and Marriage Story.

Performance Worth Watching: Evans, Porter and Woodley are universally strong here – but Evans, who’s given more to do in the third act, ultimately stands out.  

Memorable Dialogue: Gabriel’s heartbreaking realization: “Being a father has changed me. Nicky never changed.”

Sex and Skin: Bare heinies in a couple of tasteful, medium-graphic sex scenes.

Our Take: Our Son finds dramatic agency in the push-and-pull between parents who are locked into roles that sure seem to be pushing them apart. There’s love and resentment and appreciation and discontent tangled between them in a mass of dysfunction. Their emotions have been pushed aside for the pragmatism of daily life. Gabriel and Nicky wrestle with their egos and pride, which exist no matter how hard parents try to suppress them to meet the needs of their child, who, like every child, is both incredibly fragile and a sponge unquenchably soaking up everything around him. 

Again, this is highly relatable stuff, common among spouses of all types and in all places. But sometimes the situation becomes untenable. Love fades and the omnipresent force of change does its thing. You may see yourself in bits and pieces of situations here, which makes the movie meaningful, although it doesn’t set its hooks so deep that it’ll rend your heart like Marriage Story. I vacillated between considering this a good thing or a bad thing, and Our Son makes some poignant observations (of the dynamic these two men and their parents and peers) while avoiding some conversations that seem relevant (it glances off the irony of how gay couples fought for marriage equality, just so half of their unions could end up in divorce too). 

Not every broken-relationship saga need be of Shakespearean-tragedy heft, and Our Son leans toward banality. But banality also can be truthful, earnest and realistic, and for that reason, this movie made me feel invested in the characters’ happiness. It’s no masterwork, and its narrative peaks and valleys feel familiar – but familiar in a way that feels universal in the specific complications of its emotional beats, not in the broad, washed-out sense of a made-for-cable drama. It hits a nerve not forcefully, but with enough power to resonate emotionally in the moment, and that absolutely counts for something.

Our Call: Our Son is populated by good, well-meaning people navigating a difficult, but necessary change. It’s not profound or particularly original, but its universality is its strong point. STREAM IT.

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.