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.

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.