Jay Kelly

Director: Noah Baumbach
Starring: George Clooney, Adam Sandler, Laura Dern, Billy Crudup, Riley Keough, Grace Edwards, Stacy Keach, Jim Broadbent, Patrick Wilson, Eve Hewson, Greta Gerwig, Charlie Rowe, Louis Partridge, Alba Rohrwacher, Josh Hamilton, Emily Mortimer, Thaddea Graham, Sadie Sandler, Isla Fisher
Running Time: 132 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)    

In Jay Kelly, George Clooney plays a charismatic, enormously successful 60-year-old movie star aging into the latter phase of his career. And while the film could write itself in terms of how closely it reflects the star's own life and public image, that irony isn't lost on Noah Baumbach, who doesn't always go for the easy laughs. Surprisingly subdued and introspective, it's more traditional than we've come to expect from a director known for his acidic, off kilter takes on relationships. This feels more like a high minded Hollywood dramedy from an earlier era, which is fitting for a protagonist who's spent his whole life in front of the camera. 

If accolades and worldwide fame suggest the title character has it made, a realization suddenly hits him that this isn't the case, at least on a personal level. Surrounded by dedicated handlers, fellow celebrities and fawning fans, he lives in a manufactured reality, even as strained relationships with his two daughters become a harsh reminder of just how lonely he is. Taken on its own terms, the story's lightweight in spots and nothing extraordinary, but a talented cast and sharp writing manage to get it over the finish line. As does the inspired pairing of Clooney and Adam Sandler, with the latter again proving his range when handed material that plays to his overlooked strengths. 

When beleaguered film actor Jay Kelly (Clooney) finds out his college-aged daughter Daisy (Grace Edwards) has chosen to travel through Europe with friends rather than spend time with him, he tells longtime manager Ron Sukenick (Sandler) he's agreed to accept the career tribute award in Tuscany he previously turned down. Hoping to blow off a big movie shoot and surprise Daisy overseas, a series of crises occur before he leaves, including the sudden death of former director and mentor Peter Schneider (Jim Broadbent) and an unexpected encounter with old acting school buddy Tim Galligan (Billy Crudup).  

All this dredges up emotional baggage for Jay as he tries to connect with his school teacher daughter Jessica (Riley Keogh), who still resents his absence during childhood. Meanwhile, a stressed Ron unravels at the realization he's Jay's lackey, serving at the actor's beckoned call without so much as a hint of gratitude or acknowledgment. It's a harsh truth cynical publicist Liz (Laura Dern) knows well, as she attempts to convince Ron this is the job he signed up for. But with Jay growing increasingly selfish, the trip forces him to confront the fact he has no idea who he is outside this sheltered cocoon of massive fame.

Movies about the movie business and those inhabiting it tend to invoke more groans and eye rolls than just about any other sub-genre. Viewed as egotistical navel gazing by most mainstream audiences, it's hard not to cringe when hearing how miserable wealthy, privileged Hollywood types are with their lives. And while there's an element of that here, those vehemently opposed to the topic would probably stay clear anyway so it doesn't make much of a difference. Luckily, Baumbach avoids this pitfall thanks to the work of Clooney and Sandler, who share the screen for the first time in their careers to better than expected results. 

At many points, Jay comes across as a big baby in need of constant coddling by an entourage who love the guy, but find him insufferably egocentric. The script really earns its stripes when exploring why, like during Jay's uncomfortable encounter with his an ex-friend who fell short of his full potential. Compellingly played by Crudup, there's more to this story than it appears, as their impromptu reunion deteriorates when a few drinks are consumed and the real truth comes out, little of which reflects well on Jay. 

Cleverly conceived flashbacks provide Jay's present self a front row seat to regrets and bittersweet memories that, for better or worse, brought him to where he's now at, painting a portrait of young ambition at any cost. This device is particularly effective in depicting the rift between him and eldest daughter Jessica, who begrudgingly accepts the fact he isn't changing and her life will move on, with or without him in it. You could argue Keogh registers the film's most grounded supporting performance, aided by a realistic sub-plot that sidesteps the silliness occasionally present elsewhere. 

Some of that nonsense is provided by Laura Dern's publicist character, who has a mind boggling mini-arc with Sandler's Ron that should have been left on the cutting room floor. And while inexplicably sidelining talents like Greta Gerwig, Emily Mortimer and Isla Fisher is certainly a choice, Clooney and Sandler's intentionally unbalanced dynamic helps cover for it. 

Unfailingly loyal and eager to please, Ron operates under a sadly misplaced hope Jay views him as a friend. But his star client's unwillingness to compromise is the final straw for the put-upon manager, who's already in the process of losing his other client (played by Patrick Wilson). Sandler effectively conveys Ron's evolution throughout, arriving at this place of clarity he hopes his boss will eventually catch up to. For his part, Jay does clumsily try to bond with Daisy on the trip and even invites his own ornery father (a rambunctious Stacy Keach) along, whose behavior goes a long way in explaining Jay's issues.      

Clooney creates an intersection where fiction and reality collide for those envisioning how things would play out if the actor himself boarded a train full of adoring fans. In that respect, the film invokes comparisons to Nic Cage's similarly meta, The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent, only as a character study rather than a high concept action comedy. It's especially evident in the final scene's tribute reel, which seamlessly incorporates Clooney's career into the film's narrative for a heart tugging conclusion.

The ending also sadly shows how much of Jay's life is defined by his screen persona, as a string of inciting events cause his mistakes to come back and haunt him. With this, Baumbach transforms a somewhat conventional premise about a celebrity's mid-life crisis into a modern day spin on A Christmas Carol. When confronted by ghosts of decades past, the movie star faces failures and missed opportunities, with Clooney flipping the charm on and off as only he can.         

Barbie

Director: Greta Gerwig
Starring: Margot Robbie, Ryan Gosling, America Ferrera, Kate McKinnon, Issa Rae, Rhea Perlman, Will Ferrell, Simu Liu, Ariana Greenblatt, Michael Cera, Helen Mirren, Alexandra Shipp, Emma Mackey
Running Time: 114 min.
Rating: PG-13 

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

The toughest challenge facing a film based on Barbie is convincing viewers to set aside their worst preconceived notions, some of which may seem justified. As a concept, there's little reason to believe anyone other than Mattel and Warner Bros. benefits from bringing the most famous doll in contemporary culture to the big screen. And there are countless ways for this to go wrong, making all that trepidation understandable. But co-writer/director Greta Gerwig gets this, incorporating those potential criticisms into the plot and boldly addressing them head on.

The script stays about four or five steps ahead, disarming reluctant audiences by deconstructing the entire Barbie myth and using it to convey bigger ideas about gender, conformity, aging, masculinity, femininity, capitalism, consumerism and social change. And if that reads more like a syllabus than an easily accessible mainstream blockbuster based on a toy line, it's not. This still manages to be ridiculously fun, with a subversive, self-deprecating sense of humor to go along with the surprising performances and ambitiously elaborate comedic sequences. 

Closer to The Truman Show than The Lego Movie, it's obvious from its opening 2001: a Space Odyssey spoof and accompanying Helen Mirren narration that this will be something. We haven't a clue exactly what, though that becomes part of the charm. Immersing us in a universe that visually astounds and serves as the backdrop around which its entire meta fantasy revolves, Gerwig not only conceives a populist film, but a smart one that's worth revisiting to fully appreciate all it has to offer. 

"Stereotypical" Barbie (Margot Robbie) lives in Barbieland, a brightly colored community inhabited by various versions of Barbies and Kens, some current and others discontinued. While Kens spend most of their days at the beach hanging out, Barbies hold prestigious occupations like doctors, scientists, lawyers and politicians, garnering greater respect within society. One particular Ken (Ryan Gosling) exists solely to gain the attention and affections of Barbie, who appears uninterested in taking their relationship to another level. But when Barbie awakens in her Dreamhouse like every other morning, she realizes that something's gone horribly wrong. 

After coming down with inexplicable symptoms such as a sudden fear of death, flat feet and cellulite, Barbie seeks out disfigured outcast Weird Barbie (Kate McKinnon), who reveals the only way to cure this is by traveling to the real world to find the child playing with her. So with Ken in tow, Barbie travels to Venice Beach, California to locate tween girl Sasha (Ariana Greenblatt), whose mom Gloria (America Ferrera) is a Mattel executive. But as Barbie suffers from serious culture shock and the company's bumbling CEO (Will Ferrell) plots to send her back to Barbieland, Ken picks up some damaging real world philosophies that threaten their happy community.

From the start you can tell things aren't what they appear in this seemingly utopian environment, and by the time Barbie hops in her convertible and boat for answers, the gamut of possibilities Gerwig and Noah Baumbach bring to the table start playing out. Accompanying the outrageous scenes of Barbie and Ken's attempts to assimilate into real life are crippling emotional blows to her entire sense of identity and purpose. But at least she has one, which is more than you can say for Ken, who tires of being an appendage and yearns to reinvent himself.   

Barbie realizing she doesn't have legions of female fans lined up to greet and thank her is a harsh wake-up call, but even harsher are the very valid reasons why. Spanning decades as a corporate product that's reflected both Mattel's whims and the values of those who purchased her over generations, she has a complicated history. The landscape's evolved since 1959, with the company often playing catch up, as many legitimate critiques of the toy line end up forming the script's foundation. So does the strained mother-daughter relationship Barbie lands right in the middle of, connecting like the best Toy Story installments do by bottling up nostalgic themes of outgrowing childhood. 

It's fittingly ironic this is what's garnered Margot Robbie her strongest notices and biggest box office when she's made a career cleverly evading inferior parts that could have resembled superficially written versions of Barbie. But this only makes it easier to respect everything she does to humanize a character who's also a knowing commentary on the actress playing it, as Mirren's narrator memorably acknowledges. Such a physical match for Barbie that they actually place the word "stereotypical" in front of her name, Robbie makes this a referendum on the doll's entire existence, shaken out of her complacency and contentment to see the world through real eyes rather than those of a billion dollar corporation.

If Barbie must now account for unfamiliar feelings of embarrassment and humiliation, Ken makes a different kind of discovery about himself that goes beyond pining after her. This epiphany results in the film's funniest montage, as images of horses, American flags and Sly Stallone flash before his eyes, planting the narcissistic seeds for a newfound patriarchal obsession. From there, Gosling's turn only grows more wildly unhinged, reaching its pinnacle with his show stopping "It's Ken" musical number. As a power struggle develops between the sexes, the onus is on Barbie to prevent the only home she knows from backsliding into Don't Worry Darling's retro prison. But it comes with the recognition that their former situation wasn't exactly the picture of equality either.

Nearly everyone else also get their opportunities to shine, managing to convey uniquely distinctive personalities amidst an entertaining assembly line of Kens and Barbies. America Ferrara and Ariana Greenblatt really deliver as the mother/daughter duo with a relatably strained relationship, even as the former is called upon to carry a lot of the script's trickiest material toward the end with a hugely important monologue. 

More recognizable names like Ferrell and McKinnon have rarely been used as purposefully, including a hilariously deadpan Michael Cera who steals every scene he's in as the ostracized and ignored Allan. A great Rhea Perlman plays what's best described as an essential mystery part that cuts to the story's core. It's brief, but she makes the most of every minute, radiating a warmth and sarcastic authenticity that helps sell the film's pivotal moment.

An elaborate musical beach battle squashes any lingering doubts Gerwig can't hold this all together, doing it in just under two hours to boot. And in constructing a Mattel playset come to life, production designer Sarah Greenwood's Barbieland creation is as fun to take in as the characters themselves, ensuring that the purely frivolous fluff everyone assumed this would be can still co-exist alongside biting satire.  

Even when slightly losing its grip as subtext becomes glaringly literal messaging, there's an almost immediate recovery, leading to a final act that skillfully ties all the preceding themes and ideas together. It comes as a relief in a year we've been pummeled by films about popular products, showing just how hard it is to walk that tightrope of not desecrating the brand while placating audiences weary of a feature length commercial. But what's still most mind boggling about the entire phenomenon is that when Gerwig was hired to make Barbie movie, this somehow ended up being her response. 

White Noise

Director: Noah Baumbach
Starring: Adam Driver, Greta Gerwig, Don Cheadle, Raffey Cassidy, Sam Nivola, May Nivola, Jodie Turner-Smith, André Benjamin, Sam Gold, Lars Eidinger, Barbara Sukowa, Francis Jue, Gideon Glick, Chloe Fineman, Kenneth Lonergan
Running Time: 136 min.
Rating: R

**The Following Review Contains Major Plot Spoilers For 'White Noise'**

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

When certain novels are deemed "unadaptable" it's often due to the widespread fear it'll inevitably fail for not being the book. In other words, any filmmaker who knows what's good for them should just stay away. That feeling has long circled Don DeLillo's postmodern classic, White Noise. For decades, no filmmaker has dared to take on this existential apocalyptic satire set in a small college town in the mid 80's shaken by an air contamination disaster, and it's easy to see why. But now Noah Baumbach gives it a shot, resulting in what's easily the most ambitious, polarizing entry in his filmography, which isn't a surprise considering the monster he's attempting to wrangle.

Since the story's core crisis serves as the ultimate metaphor for pandemic times, you'd assume that's what finally brought this to the screen after thirty years of false starts. Of course, that the crisis taking place here lacks the same worldwide reach and impact is almost beside the point. In capturing the novel's essence and sense of impending doom, Baumbach is less interested in exploring the event itself than the true ramifications for those directly affected by it. You can feel that tension building before it occurs, often in darkly humorous ways that were prescient when the book was published, but seem even more alarmingly on target now. 

Tackling and spoofing consumerism, misinformation, higher education, religion and healthcare, it's both humorously touching and deadly serious. Much of it rests on Adam Driver's lead performance, which defies description and surpasses anything he's previously done on screen. It's also the best looking film Baumbach's directed, with cinematography and production values uncommon for Netflix's features, most of which tend to all look and sound the same. And after immersing viewers in its eccentric world for the entirety of its running length, it closes with a brilliantly out-of-left field musical number that reaches unmatched creative heights in its final thrilling minutes.

It's 1984 and Jack Gladney (Driver) is a professor of "Hitler Studies" at the College-on-the-Hill in Ohio. Together with his fourth wife, Babette (Greta Gerwig), they share four children; Heinrich (Sam Nivola), Steffie (May Nivola), and Denise (Raffey Cassidy) and their youngest, Wilder (Henry and Dean Moore). As Jack secretly taking German lessons to prepare for an upcoming conference, he's approached by a concerned Denise about Babette's increasingly bizarre behavior and memory issues. The discovery of her mom's mysterious pill bottle for an unlisted drug called Dylar only causes additional worry. 

When a nearby train accident spreads a giant cloud of chemical waste over town, causing an "Airborne Toxic Event," Jack scrambles to keep his family safe during a mass evacuation. As he and Babette are now forced to confront their mutual fear of death head-on, the disaster leaves a lingering impact on her already deteriorating mental and emotional state. Suddenly faced with the prospect of his own worsening health, Jack's becomes determined to get to the bottom of his wife's drug dependency, regardless of the dark road it takes them down. 

An opening scene where Jack's colleague, Professor Murray Siskind (Don Cheadle) gives a lecture on cinematic car crashes (complete with a highlight reel of famous film collisions) sets the tone early. He's clearly enamored by all the work and innovation that went into staging these, optimistically seeing beauty in destruction. Conversely, Jack's more entranced watching neighborhood cars orderly line the streets at the start of the college semester, babbling on about it to Babette. It's predictable comfort for him before their lives are upended, interrupting the daily routine he's established to distract himself from the inevitable. And yet for a man so terrified of dying, he sure goes out of his way to surround himself with it, even while clarifying he's not interested in talking about the one thing he's constantly talking about. It's not a coincidence he describes Hitler as "larger than death," giving us a major inkling as to why he felt compelled to create this field of study in which he's the leading expert. 

Before the incident occurs, death's specter hovers over everyone despite the routines they engage in to tune out those fears. The local A&P supermarket is established as the town's communal safety net, a brightly colored temple where they can preserve a seemingly idyllic existence, free from contemplating their own mortality. But a distraction is all it is, or a rather a postponement, until the illusion of their ordinarily comfortable lives is turned upside down by the toxic spill. Initially, Jack brushes off the danger, mostly because it represents his worst nightmare and what he's jumped through hoops to avoid acknowledging. The fear is most evident in Jack and Babette's weirdly unsettling conversation about which of them should die first

The Gladneys fleeing the hovering cloud of toxins while attempting to avoid exposure eventually leads to a car chase and quarantine, luring us into thinking this will be a sci-fi thriller. But it's just a red herring, as they soon discover no one really knows what's happening or will, the truth buried under mountains of medical misinformation and bureaucratic incompetence. The immanent danger ends as quickly as it began, leaving in its aftermath a couple who must now learn to somehow function again after staring death in the face. 

Jack's own potential exposure becomes a ticking time bomb that psychologically cripples him, as does his obsession in uncovering the source of Babette's Dylar. Once he knows, things gets even worse, as they're set on a surrealistic path involving this shadowy organization and a wacky, off-the-wall drug supplier named "Mr. Gray" (Lars Eidinger), culminating in a bizarre but strangely life-affirming visit with German atheist nuns. Besides Baumbach's ability to seamlessly switch tones at the film's midway point, it's really Driver's enigmatic performance that helps make all of this so compelling to watch. 

Nearly unrecognizable with a middle-aged paunch and disheveled appearance, Driver conveys a myriad of dimensions to a secretly troubled man whose entire life revolves around his denial of reality. How Driver emphasizes certain words, uses hand gestures or even moves around a room is fascinating, as he takes full command of every scene with a strange, unhinged charisma. He's also perfected a droll, dry line delivery that functions as the ideal vessel for the darkly satiric worldview the source material requires.

Driver's best moment comes opposite Cheadle's Murray, who's attempting to replicate the niche success of Jack's Hitler course, but with Elvis as his subject. As the two professors circle each other, trading historical commonalities about their famous figures' childhoods, the camera swoops around the lecture room following them, creating this uncomfortable atmospheric tension we can read on the transfixed faces of their audience. When Jack completely takes over like a mad preacher, Baumbach cuts between these prophetic rantings and the train disaster, resulting in what's easily the most impressive directorial work of his career. At least until the film's euphoric ending.

As Babette, Greta Gerwig comfortably slides right back into a big co-starring role on the heels of her successful directorial run. Sporting a fantastically frizzy mane of 80's hair noteworthy enough for even the characters to discuss, she brings a benevolent quirkiness to this optimistic free spirit slowly crippling under the weight of festering depression and anxiety. There's an offbeat sincerity to Gerwig that definitely suits Babette, who's racked with guilt, straining to maintain a happy facade as she sinks deeper into her own hole.

In addition to Cheadle's fairly prominent and effective supporting turn as Murray, Jodie Turner-Smith plays reserved brainiac Winnie Richards, the college's neurochemist who helps Jack in his quest to uncover the origins of Dylar. André Benjamin also has a small role as Elliot Lasher, another colleague at the school. Neither are given much, at least until you arrive at the spectacular musical finale, which you'd have a tough time envisioning without them prominently featured. In a monster adaptation like this, there almost isn't room for sub-plots so everyone surrounding the Gladneys are primarily present to reflect the mindset of the town before and after this catastrophe hits. And given the story's enormous scope, that's understandable. 

Whatever Netflix spent on this was worth every penny, as production designer Jess Gonchor and cinematographer Lol Crawley not only replicate the look, tone, and feel of the period, but movies made during it, to the point you'd think this was actually shot in the mid 80's. Danny Elfman's synthesized throwback score fits right in, only enhancing that aesthetic. Even the smallest set and costume details  astound, but it's the transfixing A&P supermarket dance scene (choreographed by David Neumann) set to LCD Soundsystem's "New Body Rhumba" that gives the film its triumphant send-off, with customers dancing in unison down brightly colored aisles adorned with pyramids of meticulously organized retro labels and boxes. 

For the Gladneys, this shopping trip allows them to bask in the mundanity of everyday life that Babette previously said she wished could last forever. We know it can't and won't, but the irony that they're still out there buying stuff to numb the pain and lose themselves isn't lost. It begins where it ends. Same as it ever was. And Baumbach keeps our eyes glued to the supermarket sequence all the way through, utilizing a visual style and aesthetic that recalls Wes Anderson, but with more narrative and thematic purpose. 

To say White Noise isn't for everyone is an understatement, and that's the thing with bringing challenging literary material like this to the screen. No matter how much critics and audiences initially revile it, the results are rarely forgettable. A robust 136 minutes probably isn't even be enough to delve into all the novel's ideas, but Baumbach still cracks its seemingly impenetrable layers to deliver a thought provoking meditation on the human condition. It's everything an adaptation should be, lingering in your mind long after the final credits roll, perpetually ready for another go-around. 

20th Century Women

Director: Mike Mills
Starring: Annette Bening, Greta Gerwig, Elle Fanning, Lucas Jade Zumann, Billy Crudup, Alia Shawkat
Running Time: 118 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

"I don't know if we ever figure our lives out and the people who help you, they might not be who you thought or wanted. They might just be the people who show up."

If you had told me in advance that one of the very best films of the past year was titled 20th Century Women, I'd probably laugh. Because, let's face it, many things pop into your head upon hearing or reading a title like that. None of them are favorable, so I can only say I went into it primarily because of the favorable reviews, promising cast and an Original Screenplay Oscar nomination few know it even received. On paper, there are certainly worse choices out there, but that title. Is it a chick flick? Romantic comedy? A historical drama? A period piece?  After actually viewing, or rather experiencing it, and realizing it's none of those things at all, I've determined its admittedly artsy and somewhat pretentious title, while a nightmare for marketing purposes, is nearly as perfect as the film itself. Not to mention it's a real chore trying to come up with a better alternative.

It's difficult to fully articulate what 20th Century Women is "about" since it doesn't have what we're trained to recognize as a conventional movie plot or narrative. It's more of a memory of a specific time and place its characters will never have an opportunity to visit again. Yes, it's a coming-of-age film, on a surface level invoking comparisons to Almost Famous, American Beauty, The Wonder Years, and even a dash of The Ice Storm. And yet it's still kind of the opposite of those, as those comparisons fail to properly convey what Mike Mills creates, or rather maybe recreates here, in simultaneously depicting a watershed year in his adolescence while paying tribute to the life of his late mother without judgment or sentimentality. The title implies a focus on women, and there definitely is that, but what it's really about this young boy becoming a man in a world surrounded by women.

Despite its screenplay nomination, this isn't a "writer's movie" because it's doing too many other things exceptionally well to pigeonhole it. Flashbacks, voiceover narration, title cards, newsreel footage are so seamlessly infused into the narrative it's a small miracle we even know it's there, presenting them in ways both invisible and revolutionary. And then there's the music, which can't be discussed as merely a separate element of the film, but as the foundation on which it's built.
Name a character and chances are you'd likely be able associate them with a song since music isn't just on the soundtrack, but discussed, picked apart and analyzed at many points as a reflection of their lives. And none of this feels forced in any way, instead organically mirroring the generation gap at the story's core.

Santa Barbara, California. 1979. 15-year-old Jamie Fields (Lucas Jade Zumann) lives with his divorced mother, Dorothea (Annette Bening) in a boarding house that she runs. Her tenants include Abbie (Greta Gerwig), a punk-obsessed photographer from New York being treated for cervical cancer and William (Billy Crudup), a carpenter and mechanic who once spent time on a hippie commune. A frequent visitor is Jamie's best friend, Julie (Elle Fanning), a 17 year-old who climbs through his bedroom window to spend the night but won't have sex with him because she thinks it'll ruin their friendship.

Confused by Jamie's non-conformist behavior and finding it increasingly hard to connect with her teen son on any level, Dorothea recruits Abbie and Julie to help unofficially raise him. In doing that, she gets more than she bargained for, learning more about her son and even herself than was intended. And perhaps in the end, maybe learning nothing at all, as their complicated mother-son bond fades into the past and becomes a memory, stored alongside the time they spent with these wildly different personalities living under the same roof.

When the title card indicating the setting and year appears on screen and we see a kid coming up over the hills on a skateboard as composer Ryan Neill's ambient, Brian Eno-inspired 70's score kicks in, you just know to expect something special. And no, this isn't one of those indies full of quirky characters doing zany things. While they all have their idiosyncrasies, they're often steeped in a painful realism, its specificity carrying a universality that should ring true to anyone, regardless of age or era.

Having grown up during the Great Depression and even flown planes in her youth,  the no-nonsense, matter-of-fact Dorothea rarely pulls any punches in her frank assessments of both her tenants and son, even if that brutal honesty rarely extends to her own shortcomings. She had Jamie when she was into her forties and is now faced with the unenviable task of raising a teen boy alone after her unseen husband walked out. That one of the first images we see is his car catching fire in a parking lot speaks volumes about that exit and its repercussions.

Due to her age, the distance in taste and values between Dorothea and Jamie is probably greater than it otherwise would be, so without a male figure in his life, it makes sense in her mind to lean on the two other women in the house to school him on how to treat women. Of course, it's also kind of a terrible idea for obvious reasons, least among the fact that Abbie and Julie don't have themselves completely worked out yet either.  Mills lets us know these characters by framing them within a specific context, their backstories occasionally dispensed via emotionally detached voiceovers from them or maybe even another character, or sometimes documentary-style footage depicting the era through which they've lived.

Books like Sisterhood is Powerful and historical events such as Jimmy Carter's famous "Crisis of Confidence" make their presence known, maybe without warning, but certainly not without purpose. Everything here has a purpose, and with all the tricks Mills has up his sleeve, his greatest one is using all these devices to create this sinking feeling of the passage of time. And as specific as all these people are to the place and period in which they reside, their stay there feels fleeting. It's sad and scary, the magnitude of how short not really felt until the film's final minutes, which emotionally hits like a oncoming train.

Played by Greta Gerwig in a brilliant performance very much unlike the optimistic, free-spirit she's played so naturally in various indies through the years, Abbie's a little deeper, darker and rough around the edges, but unquestionably has her heart in the right place. With her Bowie-like hair she serves as Talking Heads' fan Jamie's entrance into the punk music and their scenes together very much recall the even younger protagonist's discovery of his sister's record collection in Almost Famous, only without the warm, fuzzy feelings accompanying it and substituting The Raincoats for Simon and Garfunkel. But it's through her medical crisis that she and Jamie form their strongest bond, despite Dorothea's eventual objections of Abbie schooling him on the feminist movement, to which she can't relate to at all. Or if she can, came from a generation where putting a label on it would seem ridiculous.

Considering how laid back and flaky Dorothea seems at times, she's often stuck-up, judgy and unpredictably offended at certain things that mark her not as an inconsistently written character, but a richly developed one full contradictions that make her more real and relatable. Bening has to keep flipping that switch between empathy and shattering directness draped in comic sarcasm.  Few others could do it, and while I was never much on board with all the complaining about Bening's continued lack of an Oscar, that she missed out on even just a nomination for this, her most complex work, feels like the cruelest snub yet. Just watch the scene when Jamie accurately sums his mother up by reading a book excerpt and how Bening handles Dorothea's reaction. Cold and true to life, but not entirely unfair. And maybe right.

A less complicated character, but compelling just the same, is Elle Fanning's Julie, who has Jamie befuddled at why her recent promiscuity seems to exclude him, despite them sharing a bed every night. The daughter of a psychiatrist, she thinks she has it all figured out at 17 and isn't shy about providing a free diagnosis for everyone. Of course, this all masks the fact that she doesn't know much of anything and her outdated view of masculinity and advice to Jamie seems so outdated even by 70's standards that it's actually come back around again. Of everyone, she carried the most risk of coming off as one-dimensional given her age and purpose in the story for the protagonist, or so it seems. But created by Mills as a composite of various friends and ex-girlfriends from his youth, and delicately brought to life by Fanning (who owns 2016 with this and the Neon Demon) , she becomes more than just the memory or unrequited crush of a 15-year-old boy. Or more accurately, she's exactly that and all the pain that comes with it, which is why this all works so well.

Initially, it would seem we're meant to root for Jamie and somehow see Julie as a villain for withholding sex, but the movie's too smart for such simplistic shading. They're actually using each other to some extent, with him allowing this to go on with expectations of more, even as she uses him as a therapist's couch for all her problems knowing full well his feelings run deeper. But as one character bluntly tells Jamie, it's his job to put an end to it. She's not presented as a narrative construct who will "rescue" him from the doldrums of adolescence as would occur in a lesser script, but instead as a frustratingly real, unpredictable and not entirely likable girl he'll never end up with. 

It's easy to snicker at the casting of Billy Crudup as William given the nature of his iconic role in Almost Famous, only this character isn't there as a friend or role model to Jamie. It's made clear pretty early on that Dorothea discounts him as a male figure who could connect with her son, mainly because he seems like such a space cadet. But like most of the other characters he defies type or description, with Mills depicting him as kind of a male slut who women use and promptly throw away without getting to know him. It's neat gender reversal, but like everyone else, he's desperate for any kind of human connection, while also amounting to both more and less than he appears on the surface. Unsurprisingly, he's most in tune with older generational outcast Dorothea and the scene where they attempt to "understand" the music Jamie listens to is one of the film's finest.

The late 70's probably wouldn't top many fans or critics' lists as one of the greatest eras in music, but what Mills gets is that your favorite is whatever era you grew up in or associate with your strongest memories. And for what it's worth, he makes as good a case as any for this period with the song choices he makes, which are entirely reflective of not just the characters, but the tone and mood of the picture right up until the closing minutes when two songs are juxtaposed from entirely different eras you'd never expect to hear on the same soundtrack. And that right there is the movie, as different people with unique personalities and at various stages in life all randomly converge in this time and place. The saddest part is that they may never see each other again, as is often the case with the most important, influential people in our lives. They're here, make their impact and then, just as quickly, they're gone.

The semi-autobiographical events Mills recounts all took place the year I was born and it's kind of eye-opening since no one ever tends to know much about the events of their birth year. It's often just a set of numbers with little context since all the major milestones occur within the following decade and beyond. He assigns meaning to that number and to objects and possessions, alerting us to what a turning point in time this was for those who lived through it. From then on, things changed for them and couldn't possibly return to how they were. Sometimes the most important important questions to ask when a movie concludes is whether you'll miss the characters when they're gone and whether you care what happens to them after the credits roll. We do actually find out what their futures hold beyond that, even as we're still willing to give anything for an extra minute with all of them.
                                            

Review Round-up (Part I)

As promised, here are a few shortened reviews of some 2013 releases I've been catching up with in the past couple of weeks. While I'm not thrilled about doing it like this, time constraints and a massive viewing backlog have made it a necessity. More to come soon. 

Drinking Buddies (Dir. Joe Swanberg, Running time: 90 min., Rating: R)

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

Give Drinking Buddies credit for this: It's real. Almost uncomfortably, amusingly and sometimes unevenly real. What it isn't is your typical romantic comedy. That alone should be cause for celebration, even if it's  a muted one considering how low-key and casual the project feels (a compliment). That much of its script was supposedly improvised isn't much of a surprise. Brewery co-workers and best friends Kate (Olivia Wilde) and Luke (Jake Johnson) have their feelings for each other tested over a long weekend despite both being attached to significant others Chris (Ron Livingston) and Jill (Anna Kendrick). In terms of working and dating life in your thirties, director Joe Swanberg really has it nailed down and kudos to giving the two major characters an occupation that's actually interesting and heavily informs the narrative in an intriguing way.

The two standouts are clearly Wilde and Johnson, both of whom give Indie Spirit worthy performances and come off so naturally endearing together on camera it's impossible not to root for them to cheat (as awful as that sounds). Wilde, especially, has never palyed a character this multi-dimensional before and many will be impressed how easygoing her work is while New Girl star Johnson continues to prove himself underrated as a film actor. Kendrick and Livingston play probably the two most boring people on Earth (intentionally) so that they soldier through this unscathed is a credit to them. Many will probably groan about the non-ending but it's probably one of the more ironic and painfully authentic finishes you'll see for a rom-com, if this can even be considered that. It's more of a low-budget, character driven alternative to the monotony of standard relationship movies. And it works just fine.

Frances Ha (Dir. Noah Baumbach, Running Time: 86 min, Rating: R)

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 
 
"Adorkable" may be the adjective frequently used to describe another current quirky TV character, but it may actually better suit 27-year-old aspiring dancer Frances (Greta Gerwig) who's stumbling and bumbling through her heavily extended post grad-life with an offbeat sense of humor and a giant smile on her face. You can't help but pull for her, even if at times you feel as if you've entered a world not completely comprehensible unless you're on board with Noah Baumbach's black and white universe of mumblecore hipsterdom. I mostly was. It succeeds almost in spite of itself, but most entirely due to Gerwig. When her Brooklynite best friend and roommate Sophie (Mickey Sumner) decides to pick up and move on with her life, the "undateable" Frances must come to terms with the fact that hers is a mess. A broke, somewhat homeless, and minimally talented dancer with few prospects, she soldiers on, crashing at the pad of creative types Lev (Adam Driver) and Benji (Michael Zegan). A visit to her parents in Cali to a trip to Paris to an attempted return to her college days upstate all mostly result in disaster. She's like a female, less talented Llewyn Davis, but lacking the depression.

It's rare to find a film and protagonist that's both so endearing and irritating at the same time. But then again, this is the guy who made The Squid and The Whale and Greenberg. Baumbach's clearly channeling Manhattan-era Woody Allen here but what's funny is how I actually enjoyed this more than anything Allen's done in the past decade (which admittedly isn't saying much). A scene with an elated Frances running down the streets with David Bowie's "Modern Love" blasting over the soundtrack is undeniably joyous. It's the one film on here I'd most quickly revisit despite being nowhere near the strongest and a mixed bag. So that says something. Baumbach's never made anything I didn't care for and this continues the streak.

Blackfish (Dir. Gabriela Cowperthwaite, Running Time: 83 min., Rating: PG-13)

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

There's a scene in the documentary Blackfish that's almost impossible to watch. As baby Orca whale Tilikum is captured by seaman off the coast of Iceland in 1983 with his family crying in the background. A fisherman on the expedition is interviewed, near tears as he regretfully looks back on it as his lowest moment as a human being. It's tough to argue, but he's hardly the only guilty party here. The most fascinating aspect of this doc is what should have been obvious to everyone isn't until now. Of course, keeping killer whales in in captivity and treating them like trained circus animals has to be dangerous, right? And yet we've all been conditioned by SeaWorld since youth to believe it's okay. I'm usually opposed to documentaries that take a stand for "causes" and animal activists certainly haven't been the most level-headed in the past, but this isn't a propaganda piece. The facts speak for themselves.

What we're shown is damning. From the chilling testimonials from former trainers to the horrifying actual footage of whale attacks (one escape by an experienced diver is a heart-stopper), the only question remaining at the end isn't how these whales could do this, but how they couldn't given the treatment they received.  The abused Tilikum would go on to kill two trainers, the second of whom was Dawn Brancheau in 2010. SeaWorld caused it. And then they sat on it, before blaming her. At best they're guilty of animal cruelty. At worst, they're murderers. It's a shock they're still in business, even if the release of this film justifiably puts the company's entire future in jeopardy. It's proof that documentaries can cause a serious, seismic shift in how we look at things. As for these SeaWorld executives? They should be tossed in the tank. I was surprised just how emotionally involved and outraged I felt watching it. This is documentary filmmaking in its purest, most powerful form.

The Bling Ring (Dir. Sofia Coppola, Running Time: 90 min., Rating: R)

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

Taking its place alongside Spring Breakers, Pain and Gain and The Wolf of Wall Street, Sofia Coppola's latest is only further proof that 2013 in film will be remembered as the year of materialistic excess and social depravity. Based on real events, The Bling Ring tells the story of a group of celebrity obsessesed California teens who successfully burglarized the homes of Paris Hilton (funny), Audrina Patridge (funny), Megan Fox (still funny) Lindsay Lohan (funnier) and Rachel Bilson (not funny!) And that's pretty much the film, but it's amazing just how much mileage Coppola is able to squeeze out of it. It's supposed to be a satire, but that's not glaringly obvious, which is both its biggest strength and weakness.

There are points when you think it's entirely possible the director is enjoying herself a little too much, feeling almost too comfortable in this setting to really go for the jugular like Harmony Korine did with Spring Breakers. But there is a lot to appreciate here, starting with newcomer Katie Chang's performance as ringleader Rebecca and Israel Brussard's work as Marc, the new student sucked into her vortex and yearning for acceptance. He's really the only character with a conscience about what he's doing or comes close to gaining sympathy while Emma Watson's Nikki is by far the most detestable. It wasn't until I saw actual footage of the real person on which the character was based that I realized Watson didn't take it too far and was creepily spot-on with her vacant, airheaded portrayal.

This is the last film shot by the late, great cinematographer Harris Savides and it presents a California that's washed out, depressed and altogether atypical of how it's usually depicted on screen. You also have to appreciate that Sleigh Bells-backed opening title sequence. While I'd agree that the complaints against the film are valid and there's a certain repetitiveness to the break-ins, the hypnotic way it shines a spotlight on the ugliest side of our celebrity obsessed culture makes it a bit more compelling than its superficiality lets on.
      

Arthur (2011)

Director: Jason Winer
Starring: Russell Brand, Helen Mirren, Greta Gerwig, Jennifer Garner, Luis Guzman, Nick Nolte
Running Time: 110 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

When I first heard they were remaking the 1981 Dudley Moore comedy Arthur, my chief concern was  getting a cover of Christopher Cross' so cheesy it's awesome Oscar winning title song "Arthur's Theme (Best That You Can Do)" Thankfully, we get it, albeit too briefly over the closing credits (performed by Fitz and The Tantrums). That I considered that a priority should give you an idea how little this remake offends me. Arthur is, at least for its time, a comedy classic and easily the great Dudley Moore's most memorable role but it it's far from a masterpiece and I can't say I reacted with any more than an eye roll at news of a rehash or even that Russell Brand would be starring. More concerning to me was simply that it's a comedy with dramatic undertones and most of those tend to fall flat. Surprisingly, this isn't terrible and of all the criticisms that can be leveled against it, two I refuse to get on board with are any targeted at Brand or co-star Greta Gerwig, both of whom give charming performances that deserved a better film. There are occasions where this is almost that film, hitting the creative bull's eye and giving you a sense what could have been, but it's ultimately sunken by pointless predictability.

Arthur Bach (Brand) is a womanizing party animal stuck in arrested development with an alcohol problem (a detail downplayed somewhat from the original) and a nanny named Mrs. Hobson (Helen Mirren) as his caretaker.  Hitting the town in an '89 Batmobile with his chauffeur Bitterman (Luiz Guzman) in Batman and Robin costumes, Arthur crashes his own party, a dinner thrown by his wealthy mother announcing him as the new chairman of her multi-million dollar corporation, a position he's blackmailed into taking for fear of losing out on his hefty inheritance. It's definitely not a stretch anyone would need to be blackmailed into marrying his mother's assistant, snobby rich debutante Susan Johnson, who plans to take control of the company herself. But that plan's complicated not only by his disdain for Susan but the fact he's falling hard for free-spirited illegal New York City tour guide Naomi Harris (Gerwig) and now risks being with her at the cost of potentially losing all his fortune.

In some strange way, Russell Brand seems like the perfect fit for the title role and the idea to cast him was a good one. Having previously excelled at playing immature screw-up battling his inner demons in Get Him To The Greek, he's proven he can be silly one minute but also handle a dramatic load the next. This part isn't as tailor made for him as rocker Aldous Snow was (Arthur's almost too nice and harmless), but the tone is better controlled here than in that film, which could never make up it's mind up as to whether it was a comedy or drama. This is clearly a very light comedy with soft dramatic undercurrents and everyone involved at least seems to know that, which is a plus. Helen Mirren does a nice job filling the shoes of John Gieglund as Hobson in the original, while still adding enough that the change in gender makes sense, giving Arthur a mother figure. She starts out as a strict, humorless authoritarian but undergoes a well-executed (if predictable) character arc that results in Arthur having to take care of her for a change. It also gives Mirren the chance to talk through a Darth Vader helmet, a moment I'm sure she's dreamed of since winning her Oscar.

Though you'd never know it from the film's advertising, the female lead is actually Greta Gerwig, not Jennifer Garner. In a misleading, money-grubbing stunt that didn't work, the studio basically refused to acknowledge Gerwig and promoted Garner as the star.  However much of a fan base they falsely assumed Garner had, much of it will probably be eroded once they see her annoying, nails-on-a-chalkboard performance as Susan Johnson. Granted her character is unwisely written as over-the-top she makes a bad problem worse with her hysteria and theatrics, hammering home just how ineffective the central storyline is in clashing with the more grounded aspects of the script. Eventually, the ridiculous, almost embarrassingly predictable blackmail plot in which the entire movie revolves around overshadows everything else, even lessening the impact of the movie's small successes. And that's too bad since the scenes Brand shares with Gerwig (specifically a memorable sequence in an empty Grand Central Station) contains an appeal the rest of the film lacks. Following her underrated, Oscar worthy supporting turn in 2009's Greenberg, this is Gerwig's first foray into big mainstream studio fare and it's of little surprise she's good in a low-key way in the type of quirky dream girl who rescues the guy part we're so used to seeing played by Zooey Deschanel. Even though you sense they're only together because the script dictates it, the two actors make the most of what they're given and come off as an odd but surprisingly effective on-screen couple.

Arthur marks the feature debut of Jason Winer, a director known for his television work on ABC's Modern Family and it does kind of feel like a TV movie or extended episode of a sitcom in the sense that there's really nothing that feels cinematic about it. What he does excel at is taking advantage of the New York City setting as it does feel like a movie that takes place there, whether it was actually shot on location or not. While the movie doesn't work, it comes a lot closer than I expected and can easily imagine that with a better script and a more interesting choice of director an Arthur remake starring Brand and Gerwig could have really worked under the right creative guidance. But the best news for Brand is that this is his second noble near-miss in a row, and he's proven he at least has the acting talent to potentially carry a great film if necessary. It just hasn't come his way yet. In an era of pointless remakes, Arthur is at least pointless for reasons other than just being a remake, hinting that it wouldn't have hurt to change more and take a few risks. Maybe in a couple of years when they try to remake this remake they'll get another shot.

No Strings Attached

Director: Ivan Reitman
Starring: Natalie Portman, Ashton Kutcher, Greta Gerwig, Cary Elwes, Mindy Kaling, Kevin Kline, Lake Bell, Olivia Thirlby, Ludacris
Running Time: 110 min.
Rating: R

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

If you're counting, No Strings Attached is the second of about 75 Natalie Portman movies released within the past three months. But that's okay. While most other actors or actresses' careers would greatly suffer from such overexposure (see Jude Law circa '04), Portman's an exception. I'm not sure it's possible for her to be overexposed given how much goodwill she's built up with moviegoers who seem to feel she can do no wrong. In my mind though, she actually needs to clock in all this work to justify the massive hype that's surrounded her for years. That's why taking a formulaic romantic comedy like this doesn't feel like a step down, if only because it's something different and presents the opportunity for her to stretch in a way she hasn't previously. Unlike others, it's advisable for her to "sell out" a little.

It's a credit to Portman that my expectations for what would normally be a fluffy, throwaway chick flick were somewhat high going in. Mostly, I was curious if she'd be able to strike while the iron's hot and capitalize on her recent Black Swan Oscar win, showing she's finally turned a corner and evolved into the multi-faceted actress her fans have often incorrectly asserted she's been throughout her career. Based on the evidence here, she's at least on her way. Natalie has a spark to her in this I've never seen. And she's actually funny. In fact, I was so taken by her she almost tricked me into thinking the movie works. It doesn't. At least not completely. Parts of it do and there are these little moments that are really smart and nail what it's like to be single in your late twenties-early thirties. But it starts off on the wrong foot and has a tough time recovering after that, as the script tries to jam in to many characters and do too much when it only really needs to focus on one thing.

Emma (Portman) and Adam (Ashton Kutcher) are childhood friends from camp who keep bumping into each other every few years. They reconnect again as adults when Emma is a resident at a local hospital and aspiring screenwriter Adam works as an assistant on a Glee-like TV show. When his father, famous former sitcom star Alvin Franklin (Kevin Kline), steals his girlfriend a drunk Adam goes through his cell phone looking for any one night stand he can find before waking up naked in Emma's apartment which she shares with three roommates. Both agree to an arrangement where they meet and have casual sex with no strings attached. As long as they're clear on the rules and it can't lead to anything more, then no one gets hurt. Interestingly, Adam is the one interested in taking things to the next level while the fiercely independent Emma is terrified of anything even slightly resembling a relationship and says she doesn't believe in love. The more Adam tries the more she pushes him away. If you've seen any romantic comedy you know where this is going, and more or less exactly how long it'll take to get there. Longer than it should.

The film makes its first mistake early in how it presents the "friendship" between its two lead characters. Needlessly skipping through time with three flashback sequences in a span of only a few minutes, they meet up, lose touch, meet up again, lose touch then finally meet up again for the story to start. As a result they seem more like acquaintances than friends, occasionally bumping into each other every five years or so. When they do sleep together and begin their arrangement we hardly care since they're essentially strangers. The opening minutes would have been better spent with one brief flashback sequence establishing them as friends since childhood so when they do hook up as adults it means more and the stakes are higher. It's a clumsy decision that seems minor on the surface but it affects the rest of the narrative, preventing me from fully engaging in the premise. It'll be interesting to see if the upcoming Friends With Benefits with Justin Timberlake and Mila Kunis makes the same crucial error. This takes a page out of the book of the recent, very similar Love and Other Drugs in that we have a jaded, cynical lead female character afraid to take the plunge into a relationship, a popular plot device lately and a reversal from the days when movies taught us that only guys can't commit. And like Love and Other Drugs, it tries to shoehorn an R-rated sex romp into a fluffy rom-com, though this doesn't have that film's heavy, depressing sub-plot and the tone doesn't fluctuate as wildly.

Looking as relaxed and comfortable on screen as she ever has, Portman knows the kind of movie she's in and isn't asked to do anything too crazy, which suits her just fine. A far cry from the manic pixie twerp she played in Garden State, Emma is a confident, intelligent woman realistically struggling with doubts and insecurities and Portman brings a certain warmth and sophisticated humor to the role. It won't go down as a great performance per se since she isn't asked to do anything incredibly taxing, but it may be more important than that in showcasing a different side to her as a performer we haven't seen. Who knew she could not only star in goofy chick flicks with Ashton Kutcher and actually enhance the material? As for Kutcher, the recent Sheen surrogate is like a bump on a log in this, failing to transmit even so much as a trace of charisma. A male model could have stood in for him and it probably wouldn't have made much of a difference in the film's overall quality, and that's coming from someone who doesn't actively dislike him as an actor and was curious how he'd fare opposite her. It still takes two to create chemistry and there's only so much Portman can do without any help. The decision to focus on both characters rather than take a point of view and present the far more interesting Emma as the true lead is a mistake, so we're left with a bunch of your typical supporting story threads, slightly more entertaining than usual due to the talent involved. Kevin Kline is funny as the philandering TV dad while the delightful Greta Gerwig and Mindy Kaling, both of whom could easily be headlining their own movies instead of supporting Portman, get a few moments as the underwritten friends jammed in for comic relief. Lake Bell plays Adam's boss, or the "other woman" brought in at the eleventh hour to cause a relationship rift, but bonus points for casting her against type as a socially inept geek. In an even weirder bit of casting, a nearly unrecognizable Cary Elwes shows up every now and again as a doctor whose function to the story is ridiculously unclear. His appearances are so randomly pointless they're almost a distraction, as if an entire sub-plot involving him was left on the cutting room floor, maybe next to the foot he sawed off the last time he played a physician.

Lost in all the hoopla surrounding the odd Portman/Kutcher pairing is the fact that this was directed by Ivan Reitman. Whether this bit of information was downplayed to salvage his reputation or not is irrelevant since it isn't that bad, thanks mostly to a glowing Natalie Portman, who gives this character a life far more interesting than the one supplied by the script. Despite its "R" rating this project was supposedly much edgier when it made the rounds in pre-production so I'm curious if concessions were made to appeal to a broader audience once the two stars jumped on board. You can feel a less formulaic rom-com struggling to break through, most notably when the two characters go on a miniature golf date that leads to the film's funniest moment. Then everything settles back into a predictably mainstream groove, dragging to its wimpy finish. No Strings Attached may be a slight misfire, but it's a brilliant career move for Portman, who shows her range and deserves credit for trying to challenge herself with a part you'd think would be outside her comfort zone.

Greenberg

Director: Noah Baumbach
Starring: Ben Stiller, Greta Gerwig, Rhys Ifans, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Brie Larson, Juno Temple, Mark Duplass
Running Time: 107 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Right after watching Greenberg it occurred to me that Ben Stiller didn't smile the entire movie. Not once. That's impressive, especially considering this is supposed to be a comedy, though not necessarily surprising since Stiller has always come off as a depressed, contained type of actor, even when playing goofier roles. And that's why he's perfect for Roger Greenberg, a neurotic, mentally and emotionally fragile 40-year-old, who returns home to California from New York to stay at his brother's. When he's told by his friend and former band mate, Ivan (Rhys Ifans), who still resents him for blowing their record deal in their twenties, that "youth is wasted on the young," he responds by stating "life is wasted on PEOPLE." That sarcastic little nugget of wisdom should give you a good idea the type of character we're dealing with and for much of the first hour you might be wondering if this film is wasted on us. But it isn't. While not as substantial as I expected, it's still a modestly well-put together character piece.

Of writer/director Noah Baumbach's past few efforts, this is easily his weakest, understandably falling short of the high bar set by The Squid and the Whale and even lacking the satirical bite of 2007's inferior (but still pretty great) Margot at the Wedding. What they all have in common is a focus on detestable characters going through a life crisis of some sort. We're not supposed to like them, just want to at least attempt to understand their behavior and care what happens to them, but even that can be trying at times since Greenberg isn't merely unlikable but someone who treats everyone he comes in contact with such contempt it can become insufferable for the viewer to spend any time with him at all. Luckily, Baumbach knows this and doesn't make him our main entry point into the story. Instead it's his brother's assistant, Florence Marr, who's played by relative unknown Greta Gerwig in the non-performance of the year, and I mean that as a compliment. She's like that friendly girl you'd run into at the coffee shop or bookstore, but there just so happens to be a camera on her, even though it never seems as if she's acting at all.

It doesn't take but the first few minutes of the picture for Gerwig to get us on Florence's side, whether she's just walking the dog or stuck in traffic. And the more time we spend with her the more we like her and if she says we'll be tolerating Greenberg's behavior today, well then, we'll be tolerating Greenberg's behavior today, no matter how irritating it gets. To everyone else he's an angry weirdo, but to her he's "damaged." This is one of THOSE movies, in which a loserish character approaching middle age with regret over a big mistake (or a variety of them) from the past is rescued by a younger, impossibly perfect woman. But in playing her Gerwig instead projects imperfectness, as well as an uncertainty and lack of confidence that would make the scenario plausible. She puts up with his tirades and verbal abuse, yet also somehow makes us understand why.

As a character, Greenberg is sort of a drag, since he doesn't do anything but mope and insult others over the fact that he feels life passed him by. His interactions with his ex-girlfriend, Beth (Jennifer Jason Leigh) are painfully embarrassing if only for his inability to take a hint and just move on. It makes sense no one would attempt to help him since he's such a jerk and one would assume he doesn't care, even if he really does. This creates a somewhat challenging viewing experience since it isn't exactly a blast seeing people's neuroses and insecurities splashed all over the screen, no matter how intelligently it's presented. Baumbach's a pro but at points it all becomes draining since this is supposed to be a comedy. The movie feels most alive and funniest during an extended party sequence in which a stoned Greenberg proves that he just might be the world's oldest 40-year-old, so hysterically out of touch with young people (or ANY people) that he could have dropped in from another planet to observe our species. Like Baumbach's best films, that situation's humor comes from a sad, cringe-worthy uncomfortableness that mirrors real-life.

Would it be cheaper for Baumbach to just hire himself a therapist instead of making these movies? At this budget, probably, but I still hope he doesn't and keeps going because you can't knock a guy for writing and directing personal movies he's passionate about, and especially since he's good at it. With a comfortably lazy, laid back story more interested in behavior than plot (and a retro-feeling soundtrack to match) it seems like a throwback in method and style to some of the more character-driven films of the 70's that audiences just don't seem to have as much patience for today, which is completely understandable. There is a limit to how much realism and inaction a film can sustain, and there's no doubt it's pushed to its limits here. Greenberg certainly won't be mistaken for being anything important or original, but it still slides nicely into Baumbach's filmography, continuing his streak of making smart observations about what makes people tick.