It's OK to Call Your Father, Daddy
Come To Daddy (2019), Elijah Wood

It's OK to Call Your Father, Daddy

Come to Daddy’s wacky take on masculinity and love

Recently, some of my students called me to their desks to ask me a question. They wanted to know what I called my father.

I “should” have redirected the boys back to the poem they were supposed to be studying, but some conversations are just as fruitful as poetry analysis.

I don’t speak to him,” I answered honestly.

What did you used to call him?” they responded. They had a motive and after a bit of conversation, I figured it out.

They wanted to know if I called my father “daddy” as a child. They implied doing so was a sign of weakness. These boys said they called their father by his first name. One explained he tried to call his father daddy once and got in trouble for it.

They poked fun at their friend when they asked him the same question. They said he looked like he called his father “daddy.” The boy swore he only called his father dad.

I ended the conversation by letting them know I called my father “deaddy,”a deep deep South form of daddy, when I was a child and then turned them back to their poem.

The poem was Mother to Son, a Langston Hughes work in which a mother talks to her son about the difficulties of life and the importance of perseverance. It presents the sternness and the softness that many mothers capture so effortlessly.

Discussing the relationship presented in the poem led my students to think about their relationships with their fathers. Of course, being me, I then spent hours thinking about how masculinity can act as a barrier between father and son. The softness and love boys so often secretly yearn are negated by the expectations of manhood.

So, all of this was going through my mind as I searched for a horror movie to watch with my friend. We landed on a horror comedy with Elijah Wood. I would explain why we chose it, but I just did. It was a horror comedy with Elijah Wood.

I knew nothing else going into it, but it explored the very issues I’d spent the last week pondering.

Come to Daddy

Come to Daddy is a 2019 film directed by Ant Timpson. Elijah Wood plays Norval Greenwood, an awkward rich guy who lives with his mother in Beverly Hills. He receives a letter from a father he hasn’t seen in thirty years asking him to visit.

Norval travels to a secluded cabin, a sense of dread immediately creeping into the film. The first meeting with his father is uncomfortable, enhanced by the need for masculine performance. It is evident Norval is nothing like his father.

Many characters in the film point out Norval’s kind eyes. There is a softness to him that, unfortunately, society doesn’t associate with traditional masculinity.

The movie takes a wild twist as Norval’s father becomes more violent towards Norval before having a heart attack and dying.

All of this happens in the first half hour or so. Norval eventually learns his “true” father was being held captive by the imposture and his crew. With encouragement from his father, Norval becomes a “man” by violently murdering their enemies.

Only show weakness to women

When I was in college, I remember having a rough night. I would love to provide some drama by supplying the details of my anguish, but I have no clue.

What I do remember is not being able to sleep and contacting my friend, a girl who I knew had some romantic interest in me at the time. I asked her if she wanted to go to Walmart with me as 2 am trips to that store were the norm in college.

She agreed and I ranted to her for half an hour as she followed me around Walmart. She told me years later she was in excruciating pain all night. She still followed and listened and empathized.

I consider myself to be relatively observant even back then. I always ask myself how I could not notice her pain. I ask myself why I chose a woman who was romantically interested in me to rant to that night. It is not my finest moment, but it seems a common therapy mechanism for many men…you know…instead of seeking out actual therapy.

I’ve had so many women tell me about their boyfriends who break down while drunk, revealing all of their pain and dark secrets. It is an unfair weight to put on anyone, especially when the secrets are stuffed back into a box once sober.

Luckily, I now rant using pen and paper. Many men have not found a healthy outlet yet. Come to Daddy captures these moments as well.

When around men, Norval is usually trying to present a traditional masculine facade despite his softness. After the man Norval believes to be his father dies, he meets Gladys, the local coroner. She is nice to him for a few minutes, so he feels comfortable calling her in the middle of the night, drunk, crying, begging her to come over.

He needs to rant. He needs to hug someone. Thankfully, Gladys is smart enough to not go spend the night with a stranger. Norval’s masculine facade falls here because, like many men, he feels he can be vulnerable with women in a way in which he cannot around men.

Jethro, one of the main antagonists holding Norval’s father captive, also shows weakness around women. When around men, he is extremely violent, even stabbing Norval’s “real” father, Brian, with a pen covered in human feces.

However, when Jethro learns both of his friends are dead, he calls a sex worker. He is a regular and seemingly calls her when he is in emotional distress. Their “sexual acts” revolve around him being submissive, something he wouldn’t dare do around his male friends.

Not a man?

When Norval first meets the man who he believes to be his father, he lies about his career. He claims to work with stars like Kendrick Lamar. The man isn’t impressed so Norval then claims he works with Elton John, going as far as to claim they are good buddies.

His fake father calls his bluff and claims to be buddies with Elton John too. Norval eventually admits his lies, losing all power in their relationship.

Before the fake father’s death, he questions Norval’s sexuality and manhood. He even points out the choice of Elton John, an openly gay performer, proves Norval’s lack of manhood. He says,

“You stuff rats up your vagina. You dress like a woman. You dress like a cunt….did you really think I would be impressed with the Elton John story? Only a cunt would think that.”

Norval’s “real” father is another traditional masculine figure. Despite his situation, he presents himself as tough and unbreakable…well, until he has his timid son break his fingers to escape the handcuffs.

Although incapacitated, Brian entrusts Norval with Jethro’s death. Norval’s risks and violent acts escalate throughout the film.

How does a father love?

In the end, Norval kills their enemies and returns to his father. Both men are bloody and in pain, but Norval confesses he never let his mother get over his father.

It is something many young children are guilty of doing. The first time my mother left my father, I recall being just as stubborn. Of course, most kids grow out of it.

Norval did not. He said his mother had so many chances at happiness, but he never let her have it. He was so sure his father would come back. Norval shows no emotion while Norval talks.

Norval persists, demanding to know why his father wrote the letter to him after 30 years.

Finally, Brian slides his hand next to Norval’s, touching it gently. The subtle calm on Norval’s face is just visible enough for the audience to sense his peace and joy. The movie ends with a flashback of baby Norval running into his father’s arms.

For Norval, this was enough. This was a father’s love.

So… what is this weird movie trying to say?

You must be hyper-violent to obtain your father’s love. Sadly, I think there is something to this surface-level interpretation. Many of my students are encouraged to fight if disrespected. Some of them join gangs because of their fathers. One girl even told me while I was in the middle of writing this that she used to fight in middle school because she wanted her father’s attention.

However, I think the movie is more concerned with barriers to a father’s love. Performing masculinity is a big part of this.

The movie draws inspiration from Oedipus Rex. In short, Oedipus unknowingly kills his biological father and marries his biological mother. During his revenge spree, Norval learns Jethro, a man he kills, may be his biological father. If true, violence is the actual barrier between them, not the solution.

Norval also learns his mother was a sex worker. Early in the film, other characters make comments about Norval “sleeping” with his mother. He still lives with her at 35 and kept other men away from her his entire life. The competition for his mother’s attention and affection can be another barrier between father and son. For the Oedipus parallel, in particular, a father’s fear of being replaced could hinder him from fully embracing his son.

In this movie, the hyper-masculine father is no longer able to accomplish familiar physical feats, and it is only once his son is able to step into those shoes that he shows any type of love.

In the end, it doesn’t matter why his father showed the love. What matters is that he wanted to show the love. He wrote the letter despite the barriers.

The path to get to the movie’s message isn’t straightforward, but the final message is clear. It is okay to break through those barriers.

This post originally appeared on Medium and is edited and republished with author's permission. Read more of LG Ware's work on Medium.