The image of Tom Hanks, usually the embodiment of American everyman optimism, scowling from his porch like a human thundercloud is the jarring hook of Marc Forster’s A Man Called Otto. This 2022 remake of the Swedish film A Man Called Ove transplants its story to suburban Pittsburgh, where Hanks plays Otto Anderson, a recently widowed retiree whose life has narrowed to a series of petty grudges and half-hearted suicide attempts. The film’s central conceit—a curmudgeon’s heart softened by inconveniently charming neighbors—isn’t new, but Forster and screenwriter David Magee (adapting Fredrik Backman’s novel) earn points for grounding Otto’s behavior in specific grief rather than just crotchetiness.

Forster’s direction is competent but unremarkable. He captures the quiet despair of Otto’s daily routines—the meticulous way he folds his late wife’s clothes, the mechanical precision with which he micromanages his neighborhood—but rarely elevates these moments beyond the expected. The film’s visual palette is muted, emphasizing the grays and browns of Pittsburgh winters, but Forster misses opportunities to use this setting for deeper thematic resonance. The suburban backdrop feels more like a generic stage set than a character in its own right, lacking the lived-in texture that made the original Swedish film’s small-town environment so compelling.

Hanks delivers a performance of surprising abrasiveness, a far cry from his usual affable roles. His Otto is a man whose grief has curdled into bitterness, and Hanks commits fully to the role’s darker shades. The scene where Otto assaults a clown who steals his late wife’s quarter is particularly effective, blending dark humor with raw emotion. Hanks’ physicality—his stiff posture, the way his hands tremble when he’s angry—adds layers to Otto’s character that the screenplay doesn’t always provide.

Mariana Treviño shines as Marisol, the pregnant neighbor whose persistent kindness wears down Otto’s defenses. Her performance is warm and grounded, providing a necessary counterbalance to Hanks’ prickliness. The dynamic between the two actors forms the emotional core of the film, though Forster sometimes undermines their chemistry by leaning too heavily on broad comedy. Cameron Britton (as Jimmy) and Mack Bayda (as Malcolm) offer solid support, but their characters often feel like plot devices rather than fully realized people.

The film’s structure adheres closely to the familiar arc of the grumpy-old-man-softened-by-love story. Otto’s flashbacks to his life with Sonya (played briefly but memorably by Rachel Keller) provide pathos, while his interactions with neighbors like disabled Reuben (Peter Lawson Jones) and transgender student Malcolm offer moral lessons about community. These sequences are well-acted but often feel formulaic, particularly when the film beats its “love thy neighbor” theme into the ground. The suburban Pittsburgh setting, while pleasant enough, lacks the textural richness of the original Swedish film’s small-town milieu.

One of the film’s most glaring missteps is its handling of Otto’s psychological state. While Hanks commits to the role’s darker shades, the film struggles to balance Otto’s depression with its comedic tone. The suicide attempts, meant to highlight his despair, instead feel like punchlines, robbing them of emotional weight. Additionally, the film’s pacing stumbles in its third act, rushing through Otto’s redemption arc without the nuance seen in earlier scenes.

Thematically, A Man Called Otto treads familiar ground. It explores grief, community, and the redemptive power of human connection, but it does so with less subtlety than its source material. The film’s messages about embracing change and the importance of neighborly love are clear but rarely feel earned. The contrast between Otto’s home—a sanctuary for his late wife’s memory—and the neighborhood—symbolizing societal changes he cannot embrace—is interesting but underdeveloped.

Where A Man Called Otto succeeds is in its performances and its willingness to let Hanks play against type. The film is at its best when it focuses on the quiet moments between Otto and Marisol, or when it allows Hanks to explore the depths of Otto’s grief. These scenes are tender and genuinely moving, offering glimpses of the emotional resonance the film aspires to but rarely achieves.

Ultimately, A Man Called Otto is a well-intentioned but uneven remake that benefits from Hanks’ performance and Treviño’s charm but falters under Forster’s heavy-handed direction.