What If

I find it amusing that many movies that try to navigate the premise “can men and women be ‘just’ friends” as if it were incredibly novel. It’s a genre that you’ll find on an Olive Garden menu: incredibly generic and predictable. “What If?” (released as The F Word in Canada) may not be so bland as to be at Olive Garden, but it still doesn’t break any boundaries for the genre.

The romantic leads this time are Wallace (Daniel Radcliffe, Harry Potter, Kill Your Darlings) and Chantry (Zoe Kazan, Ruby Sparks, In Your Eyes). The two meet by chance at a party and hit it off immediately through their shared offbeat senses of humor but, despite their undeniable connection, things hit a snag when Chantry reveals that she has a boyfriend so their relationship must stay platonic. You can see where it goes from here.

There are no surprises or any sense of creativity in the writing of plot.  As soon as one situation is presented, it is predictably laid out in front of you. You have some laughs here, some sexual tension there, and everything is wrapped up nicely with a bow to close it out. Although there are some profound nuggets here and there, it’s so overrun with cliches that the deeper points can easily go unnoticed.

The main draw of the film would be the charismatic performances of the players that breathe life into such a tired plot. Adam Driver (TV’s Girls, Frances Ha) is certainly going on the up and up with such a recent solid and busy filmography. His zany performance perfectly lands every punchline and plays scene stealer for the film.

However, the film’s soul lies with it’s leads of Radcliffe and Kazan. Radcliffe easily sheds any whiff of his wizarding days and can easily keep up with Kazan’s usual heartfelt performance.  The two have a palpable chemistry that allow the film to carry enough emotional heft to keep us invested to their budding and trying relationship.

But ultimately the movie is less “What If” and more “When.” If you aren’t down to digest another “will they won’t they, but actually they will eventually” scenario, this is not the movie for you. But if the genre tickles your fancy, you surely won’t be disappointed and Radcliffe and Kazan will be sure to give you some feelz for the rest of your night.

Mood Indigo

I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about “Mood Indigo.” The surreal world created by Michel Gondry (Of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind fame) and Luc Bossi could, at worst, be described as messy and undercooked, and at best be described as a stylistic emotional roller coaster.

Its protagonist, Colin (Romain Duris, Populaire) is a well-off eccentric who doesn’t care for much. While he certainly cares about the people who help him, he doesn’t seem passionate about much; his life revolves around him. He shoves plates into the trash when he’s done, he invents a piano that makes cocktails when played, and (when his best friend Chick announces he’s in love) decides it’s time for him to be in love as well.

On paper (and a bit in the movie, to be honest) he sounds like a bit of a dick. The movie’s magical realism aspect just always seem to align to fulfill Colin’s every whim. Duris’ aberrant acting somewhat plays against him, but overall he manages to convey a sense of vulnerability in the role.

It’s played nicely off of Chloé (Audrey Tautou, Amélie), the sweet girl who’s taken by Colin’s awkward love for her. Thanks to all the wacky mis-en-scene their love is full of vibrant whimsy and quirk. And as their relationship grows and the movie turns dark, Gondry’s talent for combining oddity and emotion shines, creating an atmosphere of loss without ever invoking it too literally. As the sadness creeps into their lives the color glowers, the sun can’t get through the unstoppably dirty windows, and the walls inch closer and closer to the couple, the movie takes a dark turn and Gondry clearly paints a picture of illness without ever expressly saying it.

For all the visual appreciation I have for “Mood Indigo,” I wouldn’t say I found it to be Gondry’s most compelling work. The idiosyncrasy can often be — and I mean this in the kindest way — exhausting and borderline incomprehensible. It feels as if the film just keeps throwing gorgeous and clever ideas on the screen to the point where it’s a bit overwhelming and distracting. While it uses its fresh take to unravel familiar ideas; underneath all the layers of the sugar-coated layers of imagination. With the first ten minutes Gondry will blow your mind with his inventiveness, but the next 80 will weaves a bit of a knotted mood.

Magic in the Moonlight

There’s plenty of familiarity in Woody Allen’s 44th feature, “Magic in the Moonlight.” An odd pairing of people who debate philosophies in a beautiful location. This time, it’s the gorgeous southern France in the 1920s, where Stanley Crawford (Colin Firth, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, The King’s Speech) is taking a break from his stage-duties of a magician in yellowface as “Wei Ling Soo.” Persuaded by his childhood friend Howard (Simon McBurney), he ventures to the Catledge family mansion hoping to debunk young Sophie Baker (Emma Stone, The Amazing Spider-man series, The Help) as a clairvoyant swindling the family out of their money.

Though it’ll likely go down in history as one of the weaker entries to Allen’s extensive canon (especially after last year’s Blue Jasmine), overall “Magic in the Moonlight” is certainly a lighthearted one. It’s not quite a farce, but it’s not prime-Allen either. With only a 97-minute run time it’s lightness can venture on uneven at certain points, especially as a not too romantic romcom.

But its leads, Firth and Stone, are adept at picking up some of the slack. The pair, mismatched as they may seem, does find something adjacent to chemistry, if only due to their own likeable styles. They make the most of Allen’s witty script, giving the flick a charismatic Wildean feel.

But all things considered the movie generally softballs what would have the potential to be a really sharp comedy. There aren’t many twists, turns, or surprises to make the film happen organically, rather than just as it needs to happen. As Firth and Stone battle wits and beliefs in the unexplainable, the film expects its audience to just trust that there’s a growing love between them.

All in all though, the film is too light on its feet to really get bogged down. Though its scope is vast (Allen’s classic musings on death and the bigger meaning run rampant), the film strolls along, at an easy pace through scenic backdrops, focused on the vexation of love and trickery, as well as curing Stanley Crawford of his woefully cynical disposition. It takes after its leading lady: though it’s not going down as one as one of Allen’s modern classics, it sure does have a lot of charisma.

The verdict: In terms of Woody Allen’s magic touch, this one is a bit more “Scoop” than “Annie Hall.”

Obvious Child

There are bad days, and then there are terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days. Brooklyn comedian Donna Stern (Jenny Slate, Parks and Rec’s Mona Lisa Saperstein) is having one of those. She finds herself dumped, fired, and pregnant just in time for Valentine’s Day. And then she does the rom-com unthinkable: she schedules an abortion.

It may sound like no small feat, but honestly, this simple choice alone is groundbreaking as far major cinema goes. Despite their relative frequency here in the U.S., abortion remains a pervasively stigmatized topic. People who have dealt with abortions feel a need to hide their experiences.

So while there’s a place for the Juno MacGuff’s in the world, there’s a quiet revolutionary element to a movie where the female lead has her heart set on obtaining an abortion. And thanks to Robespierre’s backdrop and Slate’s delightfully nuanced performance, Obvious Child is, without a doubt, the best abortion comedy you’ll see all year.

Not that it needs all those qualifiers. I’m serious guys, this movie is A++; delightful, and charming to boot. Donna is quick-witted, awkward, and observant; the perfect mix of millennial stereotype with honest woman in unfamiliar territory. Slate carries the film with an elegant realism; breathing character and voice into an experience that feels free from any sort of judgement. In Obvious Child women freely discuss their past experiences with abortion, and it’s clear that a baby — or pregnancy, as the case may be — is not in the stars for Donna Stern.

There’s still a sense of gravity to the film (how could there not be over such a third-rail topic?) but it never bogs the movie, or Donna, down. The movie remains inviting throughout, making it an easy and obvious choice to pop in when you’re having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Lucky Them

Granted, music journalists are a special breed. The best of them will judge you for your taste in music but never write you off. Bad ones are so swept up in the pretension that you want to drown them in pop music. But it’s a safe bet that no matter which one you meet finds their field in a state of flux.

Which is the case for Ellie Klug (Toni Collette, Hitchcock, Little Miss Sunshine), a middle-aged, Seattle journalist; a holdover from the bygone days of Seattle’s hotspot rock and grunge scene. Coming up on the anniversary of indie rock-god (and ex-boyfriend) Matthew Smith’s CD release, she’s too busy boozing about and flirting with young musicians to care. But she quickly finds herself teamed up with an eccentric, amateur, documentary filmmaker (Thomas Haden Church, Heaven is for Real, Easy A) to hit the road in search of answers.

It’s a quirky take on the mid-life crisis flick, littered with Sub Pop memorabilia and strong performances from its leads, that proves largely forgettable. If there’s anything to be said for it, it’s that it’s an actor’s showcase of channeling emotion into effective carrying.

Church is delightful, as always, nailing the comedic timing with his dry enthusiasm. His sarcastic deadpan all at once brings affection and disassociation making his performance a key element of the movie. Collette similarly proves herself capable of anything, including turning an honest and complexly flawed character from a script that only supplies the bare bones. The plot swims by; intriguing enough to finish out the mystery, watch the chaos of Ellie’s life collect, and see the Seattle streets slip by.

“Lucky Them” makes the most of its hour-and-a-half runtime with heart and unlikely friendship. If that sounds corny it’s because it is, but Collette and Church’s chemistry is so delightfully kooky it comes off as a fluid companionship between two very different people. Getting to the end of their journey may not make you feel lucky, but it’s definitely not a bad flick to pull of Netflix to warm your heart.

At Middleton

He’s the buttoned-down stick-in-the mud who hasn’t ridden a bicycle. She’s the free spirit who’s never let rules stop her from having fun. When they meet on a college tour, at first they can’t seem to get along. But before too long they can’t pull themselves apart. A timeless premise, now with a twist: they’re not students, but parents of students on the tour.

Meet Edith (Vera Farmiga) and George (Andy Garcia), on a tour of Middelton College with their respective children: Audrey (Taissa Farmiga, playing her sister’s daughter in the film) and Conrad (Spencer Lofranco). When Edith and George desert the campus tour, all four learn a bit more about who they are and what they want.

“At Middleton” is clearly trying to be a love story for an older generation, emulating the “Before Sunrise” movies (which follow a couple of strangers as they meet, explore the world, and find solace in each other). And, perhaps with a bit more perseverance, this movie could be strong enough to be an insightful romantic comedy in the way that the “Before” trilogy is: observant and astoundingly human. But, alas, it’s not.

Between the adult’s love story and the teen’s coming-of-age, there’s a lot going on. The movie focuses mostly on the parents, who essentially spend their time abandoning their kids and reverting back into eager 18-year-olds in first love, and the children’s secondary plotline ultimately starts to feel like a completely different movie. If the resolution of their plotline has almost no impact on their parents’ love story, why is it examined so thoroughly?

Between the kids and the parents there’s certainly some comic relief along the way, and the movie’s not slow enough that you forget to laugh. But everything in “At Middleton” seems half-baked: The writing is stuck somewhere between simple and lighthearted and complex and practical. There are allusions to backstory and resentment which are never fully discussed again, which ends up painting the characters as stereotypes of involved, well-meaning parents helping their ungrateful and undeveloped teens.

The warmth in this movie lies in the chemistry between Garcia and Vera Farmiga. As the dialogue and plot lines slowly grow more infuriating than cutesy — basically acting the way only people in rom-coms can — their spark mostly manages to hold its own. By the end the audience might be concerned for their parenting skills, but it’s hard to deny their acting charisma.

Ultimately, “At Middleton” finds itself reconciling its desire to be all that and more, but the film can’t realistically wrap up all its plotlines in a satisfying way. The movie very much wants to be a deep and perceptive look into aging and relationships, but when it’s over the audience was wondering why they were ever supposed to care.

The verdict: A cute but forgettable love story that doesn’t really make the cut.

Warm Bodies

We found love in a pulseless place

Between all the vampire, werewolf, and undead-human love stories that have plagued box offices in the past couple years, it’s hard to believe this trope hasn’t been beaten to death. But just when audiences thought they’d seen it all, “Warm Bodies” brings them a touching tale from the undead’s point of view. 

Adapted from the book of the same name, the movie opens by placing the viewer inside the head of R (Nicholas Hoult), a unique zombie who spends his time wandering about the airport, grunting at his zombie cohorts, and taking a very long time to walk anywhere. While out on a hunt with his undead “friends,” he sees Julie (Teresa Palmer) with her human team and falls instantly in love. He does what any infatuated boy would do: eat her boyfriend’s brains and take her back to his house to show her his record collection. 

But the more time he spends with her, the more human he begins to feel. 

There’s an obvious “Romeo and Juliet” analogy, and the movie isn’t the least bit subtle about it. (R and Julie? Nobody had to think too hard on that one.) It’s no secret in the movie that human affection is the catalyst for zombies’ regeneration. 

Watching the film, it’s hard to care about its predictability, though, because there’s so much wit and charm behind this tale of undead affection. “Warm Bodies” is yet more proof that it doesn’t matter if the story’s been done before; the right team can always breathe fresh life into it. 

Purists out there should be warned that it defies basically every zombie “rule” ever passed down from the horror of old: It’s seemingly pretty easy for the zombies to develop affection and stay vegetarian. But R’s inner monologue is so zesty it’s hard to believe no one has tried listening to a zombie’s thoughts before. 

The movie is certainly a light-hearted zombie flick, and while some moments might give a jump, they wouldn’t be described as scary. This has a lot to do with the film’s charming lead ensemble. Hoult is more lively as a zombie than Keanu Reeves has been in any role in his career. He is enjoyable to watch no matter how dead he is. Palmer gives Julie heart along with a fair amount of grit. 

Julie’s zombie-hating, military-commander dad is played by John Malkovich, and although “Warm Bodies” doesn’t give him much to work with, Malkovich manages to bring believability to the role. Analeigh Tipton and Rob Corddry, as the comedic sidekicks to the lovebirds, balance out Malkovich’s stoic father-figure role.

There’s perhaps not much to be said for the film beyond its amusement factor and quality soundtrack. The movie’s theme is a bit heavy-handed, but that doesn’t get in the way of its cleverness. “Warm Bodies” manages to get the stale horror tropes walking, and it does so with humor to boot. 

The verdict: Cute and witty, “Warm Bodies” reanimates both the zombie genre and date-night movies everywhere.

Silver Linings Playbook

The romantic comedy follows the typical plot formula: initial dislike, growing attraction, breach of trust through misunderstanding, huge romantic gesture, reconciliation.  The genre is riddled with this formula, making for rather dull and uninspired fare. While Silver Linings Playbook does follow this mundane model, the script allows each actor to fully realize each of their own characters with brute honesty and complexity.

After being released from a mental health facility, Pat Solitano (Bradley Cooper, Limitless, The Hangover) is determined to get his job and his wife back, both of which he lost after a violent outburst. He moves back in with his parents (Robert De Niro and Jacki Weaver) trying to get a grasp of control on his life, but find himself continually at odds with his family. Enter Tiffany (Jennifer Lawrence, The Hunger Games, Winter’s Bone), his friend’s sister-in-law with a lot of spunk and her share of mental disorders. The two begin their peculiar friendship as Pat desperately tries to earn the “silver-linings” out of life.

The two leads, Cooper and Lawrence, both deliver committed and sure to be Oscar worthy performances. Cooper sheds his normal frat boy persona and composes himself as good hearted individual suppressing an emotional time bomb. His infectious optimism is tragically countered by his turbulent frustration in restraining his bipolar rage.  

After a foray in blockbuster hits, it’s refreshing to see Lawrence return to a more realized roll. Though both manic and quirky, Lawrence’s fiery performance is far from the MPDG archetype. She portrays Tiffany with a blunt and unforgiving demeanor, yet subtly exposes a genuine vulnerability as well. The chemistry between the two leads cannot be denied; Pat and Tiffany delightfully offset each other as they waltz with whimsy and clash with candor.

The rest of the cast is well rounded out with Chris Tucker, Julia Stiles, Jacki Weaver, and a revitalized Robert De Niro, in probably his best performance in quite some time as Pat’s temperamental father. De Niro’s role in particular manages to flesh out Pat’s issues. It becomes clear that Pat’s problems stem from troubles his father’s own unresolved demons.  

Much like The Fighter, Silver Linings  paints a portrait of the interwoven connection of community and family. The Philadelphia Eagles serve as an allegory of Pat’s recovery; the whole community is invested and their mood shifts based on Pat’s or the Eagles’ progress. With every shared triumph, director David O. Russell (The Fighter,Three Kings) demonstrates how quickly temper and frustration fester into volatile eruptions. Working with a raw camera, O. Russell captures the control chaos that ensues, making for a potent and visceral examination of familial politics.

While Silver Linings Playbook at its vein follows the bland rom com arch, the film elaborates on each of the character and explores the rich themes of mental health, self-esteem, and community (#sixseasonsandamovie); an outcome which translates into a thought provoking and heart moving work.  Even in a day where genres have become incredibly formulaic and insulting to its audience’s intelligence, you can always find a silver lining.        

 

Ruby Sparks

“That bubbly, shallow cinematic creature that exists solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures.”  

The term Manic Pixie Dream Girl was first used by film critic Nathan Rabin in 2005 to describe quirky females used only as romantic interests and plot devices to help the arrested development of a male protagonist.  This is a character trope not new or novel to the cinematic world ranging from Sugar in Some Like it Hot, Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and Sam in Garden State.  In Ruby Sparks, writer Calvin Weir-Fields (Paul Dano, There Will Be Blood, Little Miss Sunshine) has hit a slump since his first and only novel.  His writer’s block is soon ameliorated through his vivid dreams of a bubbly and stunning woman (Zoe Kazan, happythankyoumoreplease, Me and Orson Welles, And the Writer of Ruby Sparks!)  Soon the galloping thunder of a typewriter fills the air and Calvin novelizes his dream girl; dubbing her Ruby Sparks.  Calvin starts to fall for his muse, only to find one morning that has she come to life.

This premise reeks of a MPDG, meaning a film with flat female characters and the idealization of women; that women only serve to save men from the pity of their own despair.  While Ruby Sparks starts in this fashion, it finds itself usurping this trope.  Ruby is everything Calvin could hope for; because he wrote her.  However, soon Ruby—just as real women would—begins to yearn for a life beyond a relationship; desiring personal growth and exploration.  No matter how much Calvin wishes to bend Ruby to his whim, she only becomes hilariously caricature.  While the ending of the movie may be a bit cutesy, the film ultimately takes us down a journey that maybe everyone should go through. It asks us to explore, work, and ultimately—and most importantly—see people. For everything they are, might be, and can be.

In the end, the MPDG is one of those tropes that is inherently flawed. The film gives us the archetypical MPDG and cleverly critiques it to the point that Ruby is no longer just a trope, but a real character.  Calvin is punished for buying into such naive fantasies, ultimately breaking from his adolescent mindset.  Ruby is no longer the MPDG, but in the end serves the same purpose as an MPDG, meaning did she ever really depart from the trope?  Either way, the ever self-aware Ruby Sparks manipulates, affirms, and deconstructs the MPDG, transcending its mundane purposes and fleshes out the honest incorrectness behind idealization and the organically dynamic nature of relationships.  

Ruby Sparks delights; it entertains and asks questions of its audience and relationships. The film naturally progresses itself in the same way a relationship would, and as viewers follow Calvin down his journey with Ruby what they end up with is a witty film that manages to charm and captivate, while still discussing themes greater than itself.  Truly, a work of fiction come to life.