I’ve made it no secret how much personal taste factors into
every film I’ve reviewed so far, and likely every film I’ll review after this.
Every critic has an inherent bias behind their reviews, that bias being their
own idea of what makes a ‘good’ or ‘bad’ film. If there was a real consensus on
what makes good and bad art, there wouldn’t be a need for multiple critics if
everyone agreed on the same thing. Rather than present my opinion as objective
fact, which either by design or by accident is the case with most of us, I keep
things honest and admit that I’m not expecting anyone else to share my views;
all I care about is being understood as to why I have the views I do.
Today’s review, however, is going to be a weird turn
with that in mind. We’re dealing with a romantic comedy, and one that holds a
lot of signifiers of what I consider to be a ‘chick flick’… and yet, this is
the kind of film that appeals to my tastes. How exactly, given my relentless
tirades about how much I hate the tropes of ‘chick flicks’? Well, let’s get
started and I’ll explain.
The plot: Separated housewife Alice (Reese Witherspoon),
after a boisterous 40th birthday celebration, has made a connection
with young, prospective filmmaker Harry (Pico Alexander). Her mother Lillian
(Candice Bergen) invites Harry and his friends George (Jon Rudnitsky) and Teddy
(Nat Wolff) to stay in Alice’s guest house. They eventually become friends with
Alice and her daughters Isabel (Lola Flanery) and Rosie (Eden Grace Redfield),
with Alice and Harry potentially starting a relationship. However, things are
about to get awkward when Alice’s estranged husband Austen (Michael Sheen)
returns.
Witherspoon might be one of the most natural mothers on film
I’ve seen in a while. Her general demeanour combined with some seriously good
comic timing make for the kind of character you could see being a mother in
your own neighbourhood… provided you live in the U.S., I suppose, but still.
Sheen as the separated husband lets him flex some of that slimy-but-lovable
attitude from Twilight and thank the Volturi for that; for a human weasel who
deserves to get punched in the face for some of his lines, and actually does at one point, he is
very pleasant to see on-screen and he gets an unsurprising amount of mileage
out of that accent. Alexander is the weakest of the main three guys, not being
much more than assertive and just a touch entitled (one of the romantic scenes
feels really off thanks to this performance), but he does well opposite the
others and especially Witherspoon for the most part.
Rudnitsky, by contrast, is the single best thing about this
movie: Not only does he get the best lines, including a couple of fourth-wall
nudges, he also genuinely comes across like the sort of perceptive creature
that would make for a good screenwriter. Wolff doesn’t get nearly as much time
on screen as he should, and aside from one truly cathartic moment involving
Sheen, he doesn’t really get a chance to shine. Weird, since his character is
supposed to be a leading actor, but it’s at least passable. Candice Bergen does
well in her interactions with the mains, and even though the casting is rather
obvious considering the character, it still feels warranted to see the others
treat her like a beloved film icon… because she is. Lake Bell is bitchy as she
is written to be, so technically a success, Lola Flanery and Eden Grace
Redfield as Alice’s daughters are very sweet, and if Reid Scott’s film producer
isn’t a stand-in for Jason Blum, I might as well just quit right now.
This film was written and directed by Hallie Meyers-Shyer,
daughter of Nancy Meyers. You know, the filmmaker who gave us the surprisingly
heinous The Intern that apparently I must hate because I’m a guy? Yeah, that
fucking thing. Meyers-Shyer has apparently been surrounded by the film business
for most of her life; it certainly shows here. Starting out with a tribute to
Alice’s in-universe father, an acclaimed filmmaker with a wondering eye, the
film is just as much about the creative process as it is about romance. In
fact, it might even be more about the
process of filmmaking and it is rather clearly being depicted by someone who
knows their way around the business.
And honestly, it is insanely effective.
Beyond just tapping into my adoration for all things about cinema, the scenes
where Harry, George and Teddy are talking executives about their film feel real
and something weirdly mundane. Not even in a cynical way, though; we don’t get
scenes where people are outright trying to ruin whatever ideas the three
actually have, just misguided suggestions. When this connects with Alice’s arc
and the legacy of her father, the film fills with this aura of enjoyment of the
medium that is about as resonant as it can get when talking about films that
don’t actually exist. It also leads to notions of how life informs art, like
the films of Alice’s father or the play her daughter writes for school. It
should be more than clear by now that I’m a sucker for this stuff. Probably
helps that Meyers-Shyer uses that edge to comment on this film as well, in
particular having George spell out the third-act break-up in these kinds of
stories, made better by how the film really doesn’t go through with the usual
conventions. Well, most of them, at
least.
While structurally familiar as far as rom-coms go, what with
the main romance being about two guys fighting over a girl (more than a little
weird that we rarely see the reverse, but that’s a topic for another review),
it thankful deviates in some helpful places. For a start, the main romance
between Alice and Harry isn’t exactly chaste but it’s far more grounded and
loving rather than lustful, which makes watching it progress more pleasant than
I’ve seen from others. For another, the love triangle between them and Austen
doesn’t end up pushing any of the parties involved into anything spiteful or
showing the kind of callousness that only seems to show up on the big screen.
And for a third, and *SPOILERS*,
it’s left ambiguous. Alice doesn’t have her entire arc capped off just by
choosing “the right guy”, again adding that touch of the real to it. However,
while definitely lessened, we still have the chick flick issue to deal with
here: Consequences? What consequences? The love triangle ends up working out
alright because no real confrontations are made at all; it just kind of
resolves itself so that everyone gets a happy ending. That lack of
confrontation also factors into the third-act break-up, which despite George’s
ribbings still happens here, and how limp it turns out. Usually, it’s the point
where things explode and things are said that shouldn’t be; here, it happens
for contrived reasons and is cut short just as badly. And yet, even with that
in mind, I was more than happy to sit through all of it. It must have done
something right.
All in all, it’s a film buff’s love story; hopefully, you’ll
see why I have a soft spot for this kind of film. It’s a solid rom-com that not
only highlights the age-old writing advice of writing what you know, but also
how that method influences cinematic art. The acting is dead solid, its
understanding of the power of film is quite commendable, and while the story as
a whole incorporates some of the weaker aspects of the ‘chick flick’, it does
so in a way that is far less annoying than I’m used to seeing.
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