Both versions follow the same schematic trajectory. The brothers in question, Sam and Tommy Cahill, conform to the Lazy Screenwriter’s Rule of Fraternity, which states that if a family has only two siblings of a particular gender, they must be polar opposites. Ergo, Sam (Tobey Maguire) is a dedicated family man and a Marine about to kick off his fourth tour of duty in Afghanistan, while Tommy (Jake Gyllenhaal) is a no-account loser who has just finished a three-year prison term for attempted robbery. When Sam is presumed dead following a helicopter crash, Tommy decides to man up and look after his brother’s stoic wife, Grace (Natalie Portman) and two daughters (Bailee Madison and Taylor Geare). But Sam survived, and months of being tortured by the Taliban has put him in a foul—not to say ugly, not to say almost volcanically jealous and suspicious—mood.
 

Brothers is basically an actors’ showcase, building inexorably to a climactic confrontation that allows the entire cast to yell its guts onto the kitchen floor. Like Elijah Wood, Tobey Maguire tends to be more interesting in roles that play against his baby-faced softness, and he does credible (if a bit overstated) work here as a type A personality gone haywire. Gyllenhaal tends to disappear into a vaguely genial haze. Portman’s character is defined exclusively in relation to the two men, giving her precious little to do but look devastated, winsome or frightened.
 

One thing I now dimly recollect about the Danish version is that director Susanne Bier shot it Dogme-style, with a roving handheld camera and deliberately jumpy editing that served to slightly undermine the narrative’s more contrived aspects. Jim Sheridan (My Left Foot, In the Name of the Father), a style-free classicist, is having none of that—his Brothers unfolds in stately repose, letting the actors do all the jumping and twitching. Unfortunately, that approach places extra emphasis on the script, which David Benioff (25th Hour) has failed to significantly improve in translation.