Saturday Night

Director: Jason Reitman
Starring: Gabriel LaBelle, Rachel Sennott, Cory Michael Smith, Ella Hunt, Dylan O' Brien, Emily Fairn, Matt Wood, Lamore Morris, Kim Matula, Finn Wolfhard, Nicholas Braun, Cooper Hoffman, Andrew Barth Feldman, Taylor Gray, Nicholas Podany, Kaia Gerber, Robert Wuhl, Tommy Dewey, Catherine Curtin, Jon Batiste, Willem Dafoe, Paul Rust, Tracy Letts, Matthew Rhys, J. K. Simmons, Brad Garrett, Josh Brener
Running Time: 109 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

While certain obstacles accompany making a film about the 1975 premiere of Saturday Night Live, few compare to the challenges faced by the original cast and crew who got the show onto NBC, where it's resided for the past 50 years. Saturday Night co-writer/director Jason Reitman had to know this when committing to recreate a special brand of backstage chaos filled with actors chosen to pass as the most respected comedians of all-time. But they didn't start out on top. It was SNL that made them household names.

That's why it's so fitting Reitman stacks his cast full of young unknowns on the cusp of stardom, attempting to replicate the backstory of this bizarre show that didn't quiet resemble anything else on television. The running gag is how its frazzled but determined creator Lorne Michaels can't explain to executives something no one's seen yet. And he's right. But that doesn't mean what eventually airs in the midst of walkouts, firings, fires, threats and other production mishaps will even resemble the vision he has in mind. Flying by the seat of his pants, he'll be lucky if the network even lets him go through with it at all. 

For decades, critics and audiences would label each new SNL season and cast as its worst while overlooking how many huge talents it spawned. And this ensemble has the unenviable job of stepping into their shoes for one ridiculously stressful, debaucherous, profanity filled night that launches all their careers. But despite moving at a breakneck pace, certain faces do stand out long enough to make an impression as Reitman constructs one of his best recent efforts, and maybe the first that seems addictively rewatchable.  

It's October 11, 1975 and producer and creator Lorne Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle) arrives at NBC's New York City studio to prepare for the live airing of his new variety program, Saturday Night, which has the reluctant backing of increasingly nervous network boss Dick Ebersol (Cooper Hoffman). But disingenuous executive David Tebet (Willem Dafoe) is less optimistic, threatening to pull the plug and replace it with a rerun of The Tonight Show With Johnny Carson. 

The dysfunction Tebet witnesses does little to change his mind, as Michaels, comedy writer wife Rosie Shuster (Rachel Sennott) and head writer/actor Michael O' Donoghue (Tommy Dewey) try to wrangle their ambitiously makeshift cast of Chevy Chase (Cory Michael Smith), Gilda Radner (Ella Hunt), Dan Aykroyd (Dylan O' Brien), Laraine Newman (Emily Fairn), John Belushi (Matt Wood), Garrett Morris (Lamorne Morris) and Jane Curtin (Kim Matula). As show time rapidly approaches, everything that can go wrong does, putting the pressure on Michaels to prevent his dream from being shattered before it even airs.

Clocking in a tight 109 minutes, Reitman keeps things moving so fast it feels like twenty, letting viewers experience the crunch of how little time remains before the show goes live. And with relentless editing and rapid Sorkin-style dialogue, we're fully immersed inside this tumultuous backstage atmosphere with hardly a moment to breathe. On top of its impeccable, era specific production design, the whole film almost plays like a single continuous tracking shot, traveling from the street into the studio's halls, through the dressing rooms and onto the sound stage. Around every corner is another problem for Michaels to navigate, whether that's cutting sketches and performers with minutes to go, placating the stringent network censor (Catherine Curtin), or dealing with dissatisfied, coked up host George Carlin (Matthew Rhys). 

Michaels has to massage a lot of egos, and while history counts Chevy Chase as the most contentious cast member, it's actually Matt Wood's catatonic Belushi who proves completely uncontrollable, straddling the line between addict and eccentric genius. Wood, along with Cory Michael Smith's Chase and Dylan O' Brien's mustachioed Dan Akyroyd leave the biggest impressions of the main players, shunning any attempt at imitation to instead capture the freewheeling attitudes of super talented party animals who already consider themselves stars. 

Smith is particularly strong as Chase, establishing himself as the glue that holds this show together, impressing executives even while rubbing certain guests and castmates the wrong way. He'll get his comeuppance in a memorable confrontation with the gruff, ornery Milton Berle (a movie stealing J.K. Simmons) who humiliatingly cuts the cocky Chase down to size in front of girlfriend Jacqueline Carlin (Kaia Gerber). None of this likely happened, but the idea it could have is where the fun's at, as Reitman and co-writer Gil Kenan send up the stars' controversial reputations.

There are also other small moments in the midst of all this pandemonium that really click, like Garrett Morris's insecurity over his big break or actor Nicholas Braun's depiction of an ignored Jim Henson, who's captured with eerie specificity. And in a clever parallel to the spontaneous nature of SNL itself, Braun pulls double duty as Andy Kaufman, whose ubiquitous presence leads to a big payoff that doesn't disappoint. Gilda Radner, Laraine Newman and Jane Curtin aren't given much face time, at least in relation to how their contributions are viewed. But given the sheer amount of ground covered, it's inevitable certain players are shortchanged, which is also an accurate reflection of this show over the years. 

The casting of Dickinson actress Ella Hunt as Radner might be Reitman's only questionable call since those expecting the outsized personality of the comedic legend will be taken for a loop by Hunt's sweeter, more tender take. This isn't to say Radner didn't also possess those qualities, but it's easier  imagining co-star Rachel Sennott knocking that role out of the park. Instead, she proves invaluable as show den mother Rosie, who protects Michaels and the rest of the cast from their own worst instincts. Still, Reitman deserves praise for a a touchingly prophetic scene between Radner and Belushi that resonates in all the right ways as all these characters head into the final stretch.

Having already played a variation on another iconic creator in Steven Spielberg's The Fabelmans, Gabriel Labelle carries this picture on his back, leading the charge as Michaels wards off the constant stream of bad luck and a network itching to see him fail. He's always been described as generally low-key so it's interesting to watch how LaBelle's performance doesn't really contradict those accounts, even under the craziest of circumstances. A human punching bag who absorbs each successive blow, he'll soldier on, determined to see the show judged on its own merits. He knows what he has, even if putting it into words for the suits can get a little tricky. 

That NBC had no interest in ever airing this endeavor makes the film's closing scene hit that much harder, as everyone anxiously waits for a reaction signifying they've somehow pulled it off. Michaels is frequently warned against referring to the show as a "revolution," but after hearing late night's most famous intro for the first time, it's impossible not to understand what he meant. By capturing this in all its chaotic glory, Saturday Night shows how the most effective comedy can't just merely be described. When you see it, you'll know.                                                        

Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire

Director: Gil Kenan
Starring: Paul Rudd, Carrie Coon, Finn Wolfhard, McKenna Grace, Kumail Nanjiani, Patton Oswalt, Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd, Ernie Hudson, Annie Potts, William Atherton, Celeste O' Connor, Logan Kim, Emily Alyn Lind, James Acaster
Running Time: 115 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★½ (out of ★★★★)   

We've been waiting so long for a true Ghostbusters sequel that when Afterlife finally arrived in 2021, it couldn't help but feel a little anticlimactic. With Jason Reitman taking the directorial reigns from his late father, a total overhaul wasn't just necessary, but inevitable, placing him in the difficult spot of rebooting this property with an entirely new plot and fresh characters. Now after mixed results, it earns another go-around with Frozen Empire, as co-writer Gil Kenan steps in, moving the story back to the city where everything started in 1984. 

Reitman's decision to have the previous sequel focus on an Oklahoma based ghost busting team of Spengler grandchildren aided by their mom and science teacher seemed to please more fans than it offended. So even as legacy cast members were sidelined and its ending felt cribbed from the original, it still had enough moments to wipe away the bad taste of Paul Feig's 2016 attempt at reviving the franchise. But despite a familiarly nostalgic setting that does help alleviate certain creative issues, some of the same challenges persist, with the film struggling to utilize its packed cast in what should be a relatively simple, straightforward story. 

Three years after the previous film's events, Callie Spengler (Carrie Coon) and boyfriend Gary Grooberson (Paul Rudd) have moved to New York City with her kids Trevor (Finn Wolfhard) and Phoebe (McKenna Grace) to help original Ghostbusters Winston (Ernie Hudson) and Ray (Dan Aykroyd) reestablish operations at the old firehouse location. As longtime nemesis turned mayor Walter Peck (William Atherton) looks to shut the business down and jail them for employing an underage Phoebe, she befriends teen ghost Melody (Emily Alyn Lind) in the park, realizing they have more in common than either assumed.

Meanwhile, a man named Nadeem Razmaadi (Kumail Nanjiani) claims to have inherited a strange brass artifact from his grandmother and convinces Ray to purchase it for his curiosities shop. But when the team discovers the mysterious orb houses the evil god Garraka, research reveals his release will lead to the recruitment of an undead army to freeze and conquer Earth. With this demon's sights set on the firehouse's ecto-containment unit, the Ghostbusters will need all hands on deck to save the city and world from complete annihilation. 

Packing up and heading to NYC for the follow-up wasn't just an inspired idea, but a necessary one considering that's where this incarnation of the franchise belonged to begin with. Still, it's hard to begrudge Reitman for continuing the story he built around Egon's family, even if parent/teen team isn't exactly what fans envisioned as the next generation of Ghostbusters. Auxiliary players like Lucky (Celeste O' Connor) and Podcast (Logan Kim) are back, but more than a few others are added, like  returning antagonist Peck and another classic favorite in Janine Melnitz (Annie Potts). That the latter's appearance feels more like a cameo is almost a foregone conclusion given everything Kenan and Reitman try to jam in. 

Of the three originals, Akyroyd inexplicably has the largest, most involved role again, though he does well with what he's given. The underused Hudson and Bill Murray believably slide back into their suits, but it's clear they won't factor in until the climax. This is really about the Spenglers, with a script building on that dynamic and including enough callbacks to please fans, like Slimer and those mischievous Mini-Puft marshmallow men. As for the action sequences, they're mostly on par with its predecessor, which is to say they accomplish what's necessary. 

If this demon Garraka looks and feels like it just stepped out of The Upside Down on Stranger Things, the film's also noticeably overstuffed with supporting characters and excess plot. Patton Oswalt's public librarian and James Acaster's Dr. Lars Pinfield (who oversees Winston's new paranormal research center) are superfluous additions while Kumail Nanjiani delivers the same comedic schtick he's been doing in every other project lately. 

Exiled from the team and quietly rebelling from her family, Phoebe's bond with this droll, sarcastic spirit Melody is the film's most successful attempt at meaningful character development, as the relationship carries both positive and negative repercussions for the sensitive teen. Sincere enough that it's almost too dramatic for Ghostbusters movie, her arc is easily the best thing in the sequel, with much of that due to Grace's believable performance.

This installment comes closer to working by superficially invoking vibes similar to the original two. But it's also full of plusses and minuses that put it at or around the same level as Afterlife, if only slightly higher. The good news is that Reitman stepping aside wasn't the red flag many assumed since it's unlikely he could have done any better with this material than his replacement. Enjoyable enough, Frozen Empire is about as good as we're going to get right now, so at least that's something.         

Ghostbusters: Afterlife

Director: Jason Reitman
Starring: Carrie Coon, Finn Wolfhard, Mckenna Grace, Paul Rudd, Logan Kim, Celeste O' Connor, Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd, Ernie Hudson, Annie Potts, Sigourney Weaver, Bokeem Woodbine
Running Time: 124 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

After waiting decades and surviving the ill-fated 2016 reboot, many fans have long wondered what an actual Ghostbusters sequel would look like. Jason Reitman's Ghostbusters: Afterlife isn't exactly that, and the fact it doesn't misrepresent this can be viewed both positively and negatively depending upon your perspective. But the biggest surprise is it doesn't seem much like a Ghostbusters film at all, at least until it eventually tries too hard to be. And if someone were to be blindly seated in front of their screen and asked to speculate what this was, they'd probably say it was the first episode of the upcoming fourth season of Stranger Things. While that inspiration was evident in the trailer, little can prepare you for just how much the film resembles that Netflix series, nearly qualifying as a certified spin-off. 

At first glance, all of this seems like a great idea, if not for the nagging reminder that we've desperately wanted a second Ghostbusters sequel for so long that it almost feels like we're doing this just to get it out of the way. But if anyone can do it, Jason Reitman (son of the original's director, the late Ivan Reitman) would be the ideal candidate, despite it being the kind of escapist entertainment he's consciously avoided dabbling in for much of his career. Within its genre and entering with the barest of expectations, this is a fun, entirely predictable and obvious entry into the franchise's canon, even if you can argue we're not truly given what we came for until the final minutes. And by that point, it tracks so closely with the 1984 film that it could be mistaken for a full-blown remake, only with different actors in the roles. 

If the female-lead 2016 reboot was justifiably criticized for its gimmicky casting (though the real problem was always more about whom they chose and the execution), it's only fair to examine a similar call here by Reitman to cast an all kids team. While the intent is clearly to establish the next generation characters to carry the franchise forward, that's assuming it won't take another thirty years to get another one made and again convince the originals to return, especially the notoriously picky Bill Murray. And what would that film even look like? This doesn't offer many answers, as the casting decision was obviously intended to reel in younger audiences and get this particular project made and released now. Well, that worked, even while this doesn't quite fit the spirit of how the franchise was originally envisioned, or more importantly, where it could have possibly gone.

It's June 2021 and original Ghostbuster Egon Spengler has recently passed away, attacked by a creature at his desolate farmhouse in Summerville, Oklahoma. When his estranged, financially struggling daughter Callie (Carrie Coon) inherits the farm after she and her kids Trevor (Finn Wolfhard) and Phoebe (Mckenna Grace) are evicted from their Chicago apartment, they try to acclimate to their new surroundings. While the reclusive Egon was known locally as the "Dirt Farmer," his decaying residence can best be described as post-apocalyptic in appearance, further fueling Callie's resentment toward her late father, whom she feels abandoned her as a child. 

Phoebe adjusts the best, enrolling in a summer school program taught by seismologist Gary Grooberson (Paul Rudd) and making a new friend named Podcast (Logan Kim). Meanwhile, Trevor becomes infatuated with local drive-in restaurant waitress, Lucky (Celeste O' Connor), prompting him to take a job there. But when Phoebe discovers the farmhouse is haunted and learns more about her grandfather's legacy from Gary, it soon becomes obvious that Egon was onto something huge happening in town. Upon locating his underground lab, equipment and even the dormant Ecto-1 Cadillac, Phoebe, Podcast and Trevor must get to the bottom of what's causing this seismic supernatural activity, bringing them face-to-face with an indescribable evil lurking beneath Summerville's mysterious underground mine. 

Reitman takes his sweet time introducing the characters and situation, putting us far ahead of the central players in terms of grasping this family's current connection to the supernatural occurrences in New York City thirty years prior. It's almost about halfway through the film until those events are openly acknowledged (via YouTube no less) and that kind of works since Reitman already has a knowing and willing fanbase at his disposal that doesn't need anything spelled out for them. Most of the trailer took care of that anyway and he's in the rather fortunate position of being able to postpone the payoff as long as possible, spending most of the time building the story before blowing the roof off in the last act. The  character-centric shenanigans, while predictable and sometimes overly cutesy, is mostly a success, especially when it comes to the more emotional story arc of Callie's bitterness toward her late father and how it's affected the relationship she currently has with daughter Phoebe, an awkward, self-professed science nerd. 

Carrie Coon gives the film's best performance as this single, frazzled mom in over her head and broke, still suffering as a result of her father's tainted legacy, but determined to be the parent she thinks he wasn't. Reitman and co-writer Gil Kenan have a really good idea there and when that's front and center is when the picture's at its best, most notably in the final minutes. Grace McKenna is basically the lead, and while it's easy to question the reasoning behind having a tween character carry this, she's very believable as Spengler's quirky, likable granddaughter. The realization of who he was and how it helps her see what she could be is well handled, a standout amongst lesser scenes of the kids busting ghosts. And given screenwriters' recent obsession with podcasting characters, it was only a matter of time before we actually got one named "Podcast." Logan Kim's fun in the part, but when his supporting role is elevated to a co-lead, it's hard to argue that his goofy charms didn't work better in smaller doses. 

It's a bit jarring to see these kids with a proton pack and ghost trap, stepping into such iconic, identifiable roles even if they aren't necessarily being touted as "replacements" for the original actors who are now too up in years to carry this again.  Stranger Things' Finn Wolfhard already briefly wore the uniform on that series so you have to wonder if Reitman cast him as a deliberate attempt to further incorporate the tone of that show. He acquits himself fine, even if the sub-plot involving his crush on Lucky seems thrown in and doesn't really land. Paul Rudd is entertaining as usual in what can best be described as an oddly written science teacher/seismologist character who shows horror movies in class and bonds with the kids, while also trying to woo Callie. There's enough going on with this guy that he comes off as a composite of multiple characters, but Rudd is Rudd, so that helps.

The special effects and CGI are top notch, and while some have complained, the mini Stay Puft marshmallow men are a clever touch that calls back to the '84 film in much the same way a new ghost nicknamed "Muncher" does, making for a suitable Slimer stand-in. While it's not exactly a well kept secret that Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd and Ernie Hudson all respectively return as Venkman, Stantz and Winston (along with Annie Potts' Ghostbuster secretary Janine Melnitz and Sigourney Weaver's Dana Barrett), the nature and extent of their roles vary some (Weaver's basically non-existent). No one's likely to be disappointed, as the core three are mostly back at the top of their games, with Aykroyd arguably turning in one of his more memorable recent supporting turns as Murray and Hudson smoothly slide back into their parts as if no time has passed. 

Its last act most feels like a Ghostbusters movie, both for better and worse. The performances are a highlight (including a great but uncredited Olivia Wilde as Gozer), as is the emotional payoff involving the late Egon and his family. In terms of providing fan service, Reitman's approach is to basically recreate the original's ending with a new cast, with Coon and Rudd's purpose becoming distractingly familiar. Viewers are put in an odd position when the entirely new touches are hit or miss and what's faithful to the original is almost too slavishly faithful, resulting in another one of those soft reboots that straddles the fence in not wanting to alienate anyone. Stranger Things aside, Close Encounters of the Third Kind is also a noticeable influence, so when you throw some of that in there it's all kind of a mess, albeit not an entirely uninteresting one.

The first Ghostbusters is largely thought of as an action comedy appealing to kids and nostalgic adults with a key difference being that 11 and 12 year-olds weren't the leads. But at least Afterlife prevents embarrassing The Karate Kid remake comparisons by leading with a multi-generational story that elicits high quality work from the young actors despite a questionable conceit. The movie is slick, well made and probably the nearest of near-misses, but it's arguably more effective as a Harold Ramis tribute than a Ghostbusters entry, at least in terms of whatever we now perceive that to mean.    

The Front Runner

Director: Jason Reitman
Starring: Hugh Jackman, Vera Farmiga, J.K. Simmons, Alfred Molina, Sara Paxton, Mamoudou Athie, Kaitlyn Dever, Toby Huss, Molly Ephraim, Steve Zissis, Spencer Garrett, Ari Graynor, Bill Burr, Mike Judge, Kevin Pollack, Mark O' Brien
Running Time: 113 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Does it matter? That's the question at the center of Jason Reitman's The Front Runner, which details Senator Gary Hart's unsuccessful 1988 Presidential bid. At one point not only a lock for the nod, but seemingly the White House, all of Hart's political ambitions came crashing down in the span of merely three weeks. Young, good-looking, charismatic and full of fresh ideas, his campaign was derailed because he had an ex-marital affair. But that wasn't the story. The real story was that it was the first time anyone bothered to care. The media. The public. His colleagues. For the previous 200 years, politicians got free passes in their private lives, which remained just that: private. Hart's timing was terrible, his ascent having arrived on the precipice of a major sea change in our culture that's carried over into today: when news became entertainment.

Hart felt the wrath when character and trustworthiness in our public figures suddenly became an issue and the press realized they could make bank exposing it. In other words, he really stepped in it and the way he reacted, or rather didn't, circles back to that question of whether a public figure's private business should really matter, and whether that matters when he's a politician seeking the highest office in the land. It's a question we're still wrestling with and one Reitman thoroughly examines here with surprising insight and objectivity.

After losing the 1984 Democratic Presidential nomination to Walter Mondale, idealistic, rejuvenated Colorado Senator Gary Hart (Hugh Jackman) returns four years later, entering the 1988 race, quickly becoming the front runner to earn the nomination that earlier alluded him. With wife Lee (Vera Farmiga) and daughter Andrea (Kaitlyn Dever) in his corner, Hart seems to be the ideal family values candidate, telling it like it is and promising to put the people and country first. There's only one problem: his marriage. Or more specifically, an affair he's having with a Florida-based model named Donna Shaw (Sara Paxton), whose best friend tips off Miami Herald reporter Tom Fiedler (Steve Zissis) about their secret excursions.

With Washington Post's A.J. Parker (Mamoudou Athie) also cornering Hart about his extracurricular activities in an interview, the senator becomes defensive as ever, lashing out at anyone daring to bring up his personal life. But he's in trouble, and despite loyal supporters like hard-nosed campaign manager (Bill Dixon) and scheduler Irene Kelly (Molly Ephraim) telling him otherwise, Hart stubbornly stays the course, even as the media has a field day exposing his transgressions. Unfortunately, the only course he's now headed on would seem to lead toward political infamy and embarassment rather than the White House.

Reitman's casting of Hugh Jackman as the embattled senator is meant to convey something that perhaps another actor in the role wouldn't. Despite what you may have seen or read about Hart or any of the paralells between him and Jackman as far as their likability, charisma, or ability to hold an audience, they're worlds apart. And if we're going strictly on appearance, they actually look nothing alike. The choice is clearly meant to idealize both Hart himself and his campaign, but it works. It's as if the producers asked themselves which actor would make the senator look ten times better than he actually was, which isn't to say he wasn't a strong candidate in reality. But in Jackman's shoes, he manages to seem even better and more trustworthy. How could you not vote for this guy? And that makes his eventual collapse all the more disappointing and symbolic.

While we expect Jackman would excel at playing a baby-kissing, family-oriented man of the people, what he best captures is Hart's hubris. His complete disbelief that anyone would want to talk about  his personal life instead of the issues or the country. He's also personally offended, demanding that what he does on his own time is off limits without exception. In one sense, his idealism is commendable, but it's also becoming increasingly unrealistic, shading him as an entitled egomaniac. It's the push and pull between the two sides of this man's character, or sometimes lack thereof, that make for such a compelling implosion.  His failure to grasp that nothing is off limits anymore and how that leads to his undoing is what makes the picture engaging, despite an opening half hour that lures us into thinking we're watching a dry political docudrama.

One of the best scenes occur between Jackman and J.K. Simmons' as Hart's campaign manager, who attempts to convince him that, morals and fairness aside, the coverage of the scandal is quickly eating away at everything he and his staffers have been working for. Of course, it falls on deaf ears as Hart continually refuses to acknowledge its existence and plows forward, rewriting his speeches while dismissing the allegations so flippantly that it gives a whole new inflexible meaning to the phrase "staying on topic."

There's never a moment of self-reflection, even when being followed and ambushed outside his D.C. residence, camera in his face while questions are being fired. Yet as unlikable as he is and how little remorse he seems to show, Hart still makes a valid point that if we used this criteria to judge our leaders we wouldn't have had a Martin Luther King or John F. Kennedy, both of whom were serial womanizers in an era where their indiscretions were protected. Why should he be treated any differently? The answer's simple: he's entered a different era.

If Hart has a rough time adjusting to this paradigm shift, the media has just as difficult a time figuring out how to handle it. And it's here where some of the accusations that Reitman didn't dig deep enough or just grazed the surface of the story's implications don't hold water. He takes us inside these newsrooms showing how they struggle and debate the merits of covering this, and how. Some, like Washington Post editor Ben Bradlee (Alfred Molina), are all in, while trepidatious Post reporter A.J. Parker's guilt at exposing Hart is pitted against his equally strong moral sense of responsibility as a journalist.

In a cast loaded with valuable utility players, few make as strong an impression as Molly Ephraim as the fictional Irene Kelly, a political handler who now must handle the "other woman" in the scandal, Donna Shaw. In doing this, she realizes that aside from the young woman's naivete and poor judgment, she'll be a casualty. The senator will suffer the political fallout but the scandal will follow her wherever she goes after she's dragged through the mud by the media and Hart's team. She's not as strong as Vera Farmiga's more hardened Lee Hart,  putting on a tough public face to shield herself and daughter Andrea from the humiliation her husband's actions caused, only confirming what she suspected of him all along.

At its core, The Front Runner is a process picture, and while it won't anytime soon be confused with the likes of All The President's Men or Zodiac as far as how deep or skillfully it takes us into the newsroom, it makes for an effective snapshot of a little discussed turning point for American politics and in our culture. The true events dramatized in the former film heavily played into what would eventually take down Gary Hart. Post-Watergate, everyone in the press wanted to be crusaders, and found their perfect vehicle with this candidate, who didn't exactly do himself any favors with his actions, regardless of how much luckier his predecessors may have been. It's one thing to apologize, but it's another entirely to apologize for getting caught.

Men, Women and Children

Director: Jason Reitman
Starring: Rosemarie DeWitt, Jennifer Garner, Judy Greer, Dean Norris, Adam Sandler, Ansel Elgort,
Kaitlyn Dever, J.K. Simmons, Dennis Haysbert, Olivia Crocicchia, Elena Kampouris, Travis Tope, Emma Thompson (voice)
Running Time: 119 min.
Rating:  R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Throughout the 1970's, the ABC network aired The After School Special, a series of made-for-TV movies aimed at teens that tackled controversial social issues of the time. If such a special came out today, exploring the dangers of social media and technology, and you mixed it in a blender with American Beauty, the result would sort of strangely resemble Jason Reitman's Men, Women and Children. But while those comparisons seem to set the stage for the latest in a long list of pans for one of the worst received movies of last year, it's actually kind of a compliment. After all, both won awards and critical acclaim for good reason. This sure didn't, but it's certainly more intriguing than expected, and hardly the huge abomination the media trumpeted it as.

Reitman may not achieve everything he sets out to, inevitably falling short of its brilliant teaser poster's promise, but it mostly works. For better or worse, I was gripped by each of the stories that comprise the narrative and impressed by a handful of actors playing against type. The big surprise was that it was a bit more restrained than expected given a subject matter that deals less with the dangers of the digital age, but how people are really the problem.

After a cosmic framing device speculating on humans' place in the universe (sardonically narrated by Emma Thompson), we crash down to Earth where Don (Adam Sandler) is a depressed, sexually frustrated husband stuck in a passionless marriage to an equally bored Helen (Rosemarie DeWitt). She spends her free time at work creating an Ashley Madison profile while he's building up the courage to seek out an escort service and sneaking into his teen son Chris' (Travis Tope) room to view online pornography.

So extreme is Chris' taste in porn that it's actually preventing him from being aroused by anything or anyone else, including would-be girlfriend and aspiring celebrity, Hannah (Olivia Crocicchia). Her vanity proves to be a contagiously destructive influence on younger classmate, Allison (a shockingly good Elena Kampouris), a formerly overweight girl starving herself to gain the attention of an older "bad boy" who wouldn't give her the time of day.

Meanwhile, Hannah's mom Joan (Judy Greer), a former actress, is maintaining her daughter's website, taking and posting inappropriate photos of her for paying subscribers in a desperate attempt to boost her profile. Joan forms a bond with single dad, Kent (Dean Norris) over their mutual dislike of the neighborhood's cyber-watchdog mom, Patricia (Jennifer Garner), whose constant monitoring of daughter Brandy's (Kaitlyn Dever) online and cell phone activity is preventing the teen from having anything resembling a social life.

At school, Brandy finds a kindred spirit in Kent's son, the similarly depressed and introspective Tim (Ansel Elgort), who suddenly quit the football team and is addicted to an online role-playing video game. They start secretly seeing each other in what ends up being the golden ticket storyline, easily doing the best job at conveying the film's themes of loneliness and isolation amidst a world that's more technologically connected than ever. 

Okay, so when described like this, the whole thing does seem a little ridiculous. But it isn't strung together by contrivances or coincidences, as is often the case when dealing with intersecting storylines within a single film. Nothing happens here that's crazy to accept and it plays more like a collection of character sketches. Of course, some are better than others. And as uninteresting as it would seem spending two hours watching strangers text and stare at their screens, this presents that idea more tolerably than similar films exploring the subject, or even movies of other genres with characters electronically plugged in. At least Reitman can provide the reasoning that he's showing exactly what his film is about through their actions.

It's almost painful to reveal that the weakest thread is Sandler's and DeWitt's, if only because the last thing Sandler needs is anyone discouraging him for stepping out of his comfort zone and exploring his dramatic side. Here he proves again just how subtle and effective a performer he is when out of goofball mode. Unfortunately, it's in a typical unsatisfied spouses storyline, as these two downers sulk through their extra-marital affairs. This, along with their son's impotence issues (which isn't given as much time), is the weakest segment, culminating in a resolution that's very matter of fact. Those complaining this film hits audiences over the head with its themes should re-watch this story arc as its restraint is more likely to induce a nap.

The pairing of Dean Norris and Judy Greer is a highlight, with both are cast wildly against type. Norris' Kent is nervous and underconfident in the wake of his wife leaving their family while Greer plays the stage mom from hell, living vicariously through her daughter until a harsh dose of reality knocks her cold. It's an especially big jump for Norris, who's very far removed from Breaking Bad's macho, authoritative Hank Schrader as fans should be surprised just how large his supporting role is and what he does with it.

Tim having this sudden epiphany and quitting the football team because he's miserable for reasons having nothing to do with football just might be the most realistic event in the film. That's just exactly the kind of thing an angry, depressed teen would do and it feels completely earned, as does most of the storyline involving him and Brandy's secret, forbidden relationship. Touching and truthful to a fault, you have to wonder how good a film this could have been on its own, with Elgort and Dever proving why they're on the top of everyone's list of young actors to watch.

Elgort continues his streak of straddling the line between likable jock and sensitive introvert, adding depth to what could have been a superficially drawn teen caricature, while Dever conveys this world of hurt and shame on her face without muttering a word. And with Jennifer Garner's psychotically overprotective parent watching her every move, that's understandable. Would anyone go to the extreme lengths she does to shield her daughter from social media? You wonder why she even lets her daughter have a phone or computer considering all the work she must put in monitoring it.

The most interesting takeaway is that if this took place during another era, we'd still have this issue. It's the technology that's allowing us to hurt each other faster and more impersonally, as a phone or mobile device in the hands of these characters may as well be a pipe bomb. Reitman's multi-narrative approach toward presenting modern technology as gasoline on a fire is a good one, even as many didn't care for how he went about making that point or thought maybe he just shouldn't have said anything at all. As someone who's no fan of his pitiful previous effort, the belabored Labor Day, and agrees he's slipped recently, there's still no denying pitchforks were undeservedly out for this one before it was even released.

Chalk it up to low expectations or this falling firmly within the suburban drama genre I tend to heavily favor, but Reitman deserves credit for at least trying something different and achieving passable results, thanks mostly to the performances. Years down the line, when the technology becomes dated and the film's an artifact, it remains to be seen whether this effort provides any insight on human behavior. It's a movie very much of its time. Of course, that time happens to be now and the characters inhabiting it are irritatingly and uncomfortably recognizable.
        

Labor Day

Director: Jason Reitman
Starring: Kate Winslet, Josh Brolin, Gattlin Griffith, Tobey Maguire, Dylan Minnette, Clark Gregg, Brooke Smith, James Van Der Beek, JK Simmons, Alexie Gilmore, Brighid Fleming
Running Time: 111 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★ (out of ★★★★) 

There are two scenes in Jason Reitman's stab at an Oscar-friendly period piece, Labor Day, that had me howling with laughter. No, it's not the infamous peach pie scene, in which Josh Brolin's escaped convict romantically teaches Kate Winslet's single mom how to make a peach pie. It's ridiculous for sure, but what  beats it is a long soliloquy from a manipulative teen girl that's one of the more hysterically out of place and overwritten speeches in recent cinematic memory. To say dialogue like this wouldn't come from the mouth of a girl that age isn't even doing it justice. It wouldn't come out of the mouth of any human being on the planet. Even in 1987. The boy listening to it has this dumbfounded look on his face the whole time and who can blame him? He'll later have a dream about her that's the second most ridiculous scene in the film and an embarrassingly bizarre depiction of an adolescent's first stirrings of sexuality.

Give Reitman credit for going way out of his comfort zone in adapting a Joyce Maynard novel, even if it's a place I hope he never goes again. And that's coming from someone who thought his last film, Young Adult, qualified as a darkly comic masterpiece. Apparently, enough people disagreed for him to attempt this mishmash of tones, which starts promisingly as a lurid crime drama before evolving slowly and painfully into what feels like a lightweight Nicholas Sparks adaptation. While featuring a pair of strong performances, it contains holes in logic large enough to drive a truck through, which is odd considering just how dull and formulaic the story ends up being. If this came from any other director it would probably be considered a decent if middling effort, but from a talent like Reitman, it's an unwelcome departure and an even bigger disappointment. If nothing else, we should at least give him credit for admitting it. The faster he puts this behind him, the better.

Adele Wheeler (Winslet) is a depressed single mom raising her 13-year-old son Henry (Gattlin Griffith) in a Boston suburb in 1987. After husband Gerald (Clark Gregg) left her for his secretary, it been difficult for Adele to even leave house, with young Henry stepping up to assume the responsibilities of the household. As luck would have it, the one time a month the agoraphobic Adele can bring herself to the store, bloodied fugitive and convicted murderer Frank Chambers (Brolin) takes her and Henry hostage, formulating a plan to evade police while hiding out in their home. But he gets a little too comfortable, and so do they, with Frank becoming a sort of surrogate father to Henry and the husband Adele wishes she always had. After a while, the word "hostages" hardly applies as the stoic fugitive warms up to the idea of a new family even as he's haunted by a troubled past. But police are closing in, forcing him to decide whether his freedom is worth the potential  harm that can come to this woman and her son.

The story is narrated by an adult Henry (a miscast Tobey Maguire) and is in a way presented as a coming-of-age tale centered around his journey and memories of that Labor Day weekend in 1987. Ultimately though, that portion is where the film falls shortest, taking a backseat to the dopey romance. At the risk of dating myself, there's little in the film that gives us any real sense it's taking place in 1987, or was part of anyone's childhood, save for maybe the period cars. There's also little in the way of establishing the setting which we're lead to infer is a Massachusetts suburb primarily because of Frank's Red Sox cap and little else. After the standoff start one would expect from a fugitive taking hostages, he settles into the role of cook, handyman, electrician, dance instructor, husband and father. For Henry he's a more than suitable replacement for the dad who walked out on him while Adele's sees as a potential lover rather than a dangerous criminal almost right from the start.

Many of the film's problems stem from Frank being such a great guy that there's basically no conflict at all, aside from some really nosy neighbors. Everyone in town is bothering this kid about his mom, and not of out concern for her mental health, but because they're annoying and invasive. A supermarket clerk cross examines him about his items. Townsfolk show up at their door unannounced, and in some cases, even walk right in. And yet, Frank's been cleaning gutters and fixing cars in broad daylight without anyone noticing. Ironically enough, the one time everyone should have known something was up was when Adele and Henry are first abducted at the store, and none too subtly either. You couldn't imagine two more obviously petrified people not wearing shirts that read "HOSTAGES." But there is one rewarding sequence involving the unexpected visit of a handicapped child that does create some genuine tension and suspense with Frank's identity threatened to be accidentally revealed in a surprising manner.

Interspersed with the present-day action are flashbacks to Frank's past and the murder that landed him in prison. These sequences work and are some of the more visually impressive, but we know from the start Frank is no coldblooded killer, so while the scenes are engaging, nothing about them feel revelatory. Winslet and Brolin are fine in their roles, with Brolin the clear standout. But you could probably name half a dozen or more of their performances that are better, if only because the material was. Gattlin Griffith is strong too, except when he's dragged down in scenes with the aforementioned girl (played by Brighid Fleming), which force him to react to the unreactable.

Everything completely collapses in the third act when a character figures out information they couldn't possibly know and what started as a fugitive on the run story recalling A Perfect World or The Fugitive deteriorates into The Notebook. James Van Der Beek appears as a cop, and maybe the only smart character. Too bad even he's wasted when we realize Reitman was more interested in settling into a weepie love story. Maynard's source material is just too stilted and reserved for a filmmaker of his type. He needs that contemporary humor and a satiric edge to really excel. Here, he's handcuffed, dishing out a traditional period piece as is, without the benefit of being able to explore. Labor Day starts as something important with accelerating tension but by the end it's almost completely neutered, fizzling out as it approaches its final lap. It's one of those movies that seem enjoyable enough while you're watching only to discover afterward just how much better it could have been.            
       

Young Adult

Director: Jason Reitman
Starring: Charlize Theron, Patton Oswalt, Patrick Wilson, Elizabeth Reaser, Collette Wolfe
Running Time: 94 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Young Adult is the sneakiest kind of great movie. The type that decides to stay and hang out a while. It doesn't seem like much while I was watching it or even a few hours after, but days later it crept up on me. I saw it a week ago and its been replaying in my head since. The plot can probably be summed up in a single sentence but the layers that can be peeled away from its main character seem endless. It's brave and gutsy, literally basking in its own pessimism since any other approach would just seem dishonest. A lot of viewers are going to have strong opinions about this protagonist who hits close to home in a very disturbing way. If you aren't her or at least possess a few of her less than desirable qualities, chances are you know someone who does. But as pathetic and despicable her behavior is, I can't remember a recent movie character I've felt deeper sympathy for or understood better. What happens with her is just awful and whether you can relate to her or not, there's no question this film ventures to uncomfortable, taboo territory most dramas, much less other dark comedies, refuse to go. Most will probably detest this character, but for me there were points where I wanted to reach through the screen and give her a hug. So it's a good thing the Juno team of director Jason Reitman and screenwriter Diablo Cody won't, remaining true to her cruel, funny, unsentimental journey of emotional self-destruction right up until the closing credits.

For many high school is remembered as worst time of their life. That divorced 37-year-old Mavis Gary (Charlize Theron) is desperately trying to recapture it should give you a good idea how empty her present situation is. The ghost writer of a once popular but now canceled series of young adult novels spends more time in her Minneapolis high rise sleeping, drinking liters of diet coke and watching reality TV than she does writing. She might also be an alcoholic. With the deadline fast approaching on what will be her last book in the series she receives news that her old high school boyfriend Buddy Slade (Patrick Wilson) is now married and his wife Beth (Elizabeth Reaser) just had a baby. So with only her small dog Dolce and a mix tape she gets in her Mini Cooper and embarks on a road trip back to her hometown of Mercury, Minnesota to try to break them up. Stopping at nothing to reclaim her man, she runs into former classmate Matt Freehauf (Patton Oswalt), who who was left permanently disabled by an attack in high school that made national news as a "hate crime" until it was discovered he wasn't actually gay. While he's as stuck in the past as she is, Matt isn't as delusional and seems to be the only one capable of seeing through her and telling it like it is. Even he knows her plan is a bad idea. But that doesn't mean there's anything he can do to stop her from humiliating herself and others.

The movie refuses to romanticize either side of the equation. It instead paints an unrelentingly sad and depressing portrait of failed dreams and small town life. Mavis' obsession with reclaiming her glory days (yes, like the Springsteen song) isn't presented as anything other than pathetically sad. There are no flashbacks presenting an idealized version of the past that would somehow justify her behavior to us. When she returns home to her old bedroom it's untouched since the early '90's. Any music used on the soundtrack from that era aren't obvious nostalgia-baiting choices and the ones that do pop up (like Teenage Fanclub's "The Concept" playing on a continuous loop during her drive) are meant to reflect the her delusion and obsessions more than anything else. Things back home aren't that great either. It would have been easy to show how exciting the locals' lives are so her actions would look worse and the issues would seem black and white. But nothing in this film is easy.

From Mavis' perspective we can kind of see how she'd view Buddy's life as "boring" from the outside looking in. Normal people living normal lives. Buddy never left his hometown, has worked at General Mills for years, married a cool girl who plays drums in a mom band for fun and changes diapers. Certain things are expected of you as you get older and most resemble what he's doing. Cody's script dares to ask why people make that choice and what happens to those who don't. Whether his life's exciting or not or whether she thinks he's happy is far from the point. He's moved on. So has her hometown. She hasn't. As mundane and unfulfilled she may think their lives are, the real problem is her inability to admit it's the life that slipped away. But doing that would mean actually coming to terms with her past instead of defiantly living in it.

Buddy's reaction to Mavis' return is odd and brilliantly ambiguous. We're not sure what he knows, or if he knows anything. Patrick Wilson's become an expert at playing "Mr. Nice Guy" and gets even more practice here. At various points we're not sure if he's pitying her, trying to be friend, completely repulsed, genuinely interested, stringing her along, or walking on eggshells with someone he thinks needs help. It may as well be all of them. Or none of them. The same could be said for his wife's reaction, which isn't one you'd expect considering her husband's old flame has just come charging back to town to steal him. Mavis' only friend and voice of reason turns out to be the kid whose locker was next to hers in high school, but she didn't bother talking to. Patton Oswalt's Matt is a lonely, but refreshingly honest character slightly reminiscent of the more tortured one he played a couple of years  ago in Big Fan. Only when that film's curtain was pulled back, it revealed itself as nothing but a joke with his hapless protagonist serving as the punchline, despite his earnest performance. Here he provides better, even more essential supporting work in a black comedy that doesn't chicken out. While Matt shares certain similarities with Mavis, he possesses a self awareness she lacks and his straight shooting with her is where most of the film's dark humor comes from. He knows what his deal is and thought he accepted it. Her return opens those wounds up, but he's the only person who truly gets what she's going through.

This is a fearless, tour de force performance from Charlize Theron that's not just easily the best of this year, but on par with her 2003 Academy Award-winning performance as serial killer Aileen Wuornos in Monster that Roger Ebert famously called one of the greatest in the history of the cinema. Mavis is a different kind of monster but I think I appreciate Theron's work here even more because there's no physical transformation anyone can point to as an excuse. While ugly on the inside, she does change in and out of so many different outfits and tries out so many different hairstyles that they almost become costumes and masks, with the last being the most symbolic of all. There's a moment when Mavis eagerly waits at the bar for her reunion with Buddy in this low-cut black tank top, it's a credit to Theron that we completely understand why he isn't even tempted. Mavis' self-loathing, desperation and bitchiness pierce through the actress' eyes with every glance and eye roll. She cuts with every intentional or unintentional sarcastic put-down. At one crucial point when Mavis is told she's "better than this" we believe it's true because in even the smallest throwaway moments Theron still subtly hints at the potential lost. She's in bad shape but hasn't hit bottom. At least not yet. After a brief acting hiatus Theron comes roaring back with this and the sad thing is she probably won't even be nominated. Oscar voters can't ever seem to handle it when beautiful actresses take on ugly, challenging characters unless they physically disguise themselves. Otherwise it feels too real. Here's hoping they make an exception because she's nothing short of amazing. 

Add this to the already long list of great writer movies, as this script really nails the painfully funny details. Whether Mavis is staring at the blank page only to opt checking her e-mail or taking her laptop to fast food joints to eavesdrop on conversations, this is the kind of troubled, messed-up, inside-her-own head character that could only be an author. When she writes that a couple has "textual chemistry" you can't help but laugh knowing it's the same too hip and knowing dialogue that Diablo Cody was mercilessly mocked by the media for employing when she penned her Oscar winning script for Juno. When that opened casual moviegoers reacted as if they didn't even know what a screenplay was before and just realized movies are actually written by someone. She had a very specific, unique voice that turned off as many as it impressed. You'd figure that frustration had to weigh on Cody's mind when she created this character, supposedly inspired by all the probing media questions she faced about why a thirty-something woman keeps writing about adolescents. If this is her response it feels like a giant middle finger, this time using the protagonist's perceived coolness and cleverness as a mallet to club audiences. It's the anti-Juno. And for director Jason Reitman this is by a landslide his most compelling  work yet, marking a full turn to the dark side after flirting with edgy satire in Thank You For Smoking and Up in the Air.

It seems every year people like to say a certain film "hits the zeitgeist." The term is so casually thrown around nowadays it may as well mean nothing. But finally here's one that hits it dead center. It feels so timely, targeting our culture's current obsession with nostalgia and convincing ourselves that things were better back when we thought we were better, whenever that was. Like the celebrities we simultaneously despise and idolize, Mavis functions as the mirror in which we view ourselves at our worst and it isn't pretty. But it's honest. Whether we want to admit it or not, there's probably some of her in all of us. It definitely strikes fear in me. Here's a character slightly older than I am, listens to the same type of music I did and went to high school during my era. I always say one of the weirdest things for me is seeing peers from childhood as married parents. And you'd have to not be one to really understand why that's so. This film fully articulates that feeling.
Most go to the movies to escape people like Mavis Gary, not find out what makes them tick. It's almost as if the homewrecking villain in a romantic comedy were made the lead, but given actual motivation and complexity. We expect certain things in films and a likable protagonist is one of them. And if they're not, they at least need to experience growth of some sort. While it might be a stretch to say she achieves none, it sure isn't much. Instead she's given a final act "pep talk" that further feeds her narcissistic delusion. It's clear her road to recovery will be a marathon rather than a sprint, if there's even recovery at all. And yet, that's strangely reassuring. This isn't a coming-of-age story but instead a vicious, bracingly blunt character study that goes for the jugular, creating some cringe-worthy moments that only sting that much more because they feel real. Proof that it's always the darker, riskier movies like Young Adult that cut the deepest, unafraid of going to the brutally honest places misplaced sentimentality too often prevents.

Up in the Air

Director: Jason Reitman
Starring: George Clooney, Vera Farmiga, Anna Kendrick, Jason Bateman, Danny McBride, Melanie Lynskey, Sam Elliott, Zach Galifianakis
Running Time: 109 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ 1/2 (out of ★★★★)

And so the streak continues for George Clooney. After years of the media bending over backwards to push him as the the savior of American movies when his acting work didn't support that inflated claim, he's only recently turned a corner to prove himself somewhat worthy of the hype. It started with Michael Clayton in 2007, continuing shortly thereafter with Leatherheads and Burn After Reading. While each film resulted in varying degrees of success, they were smart, interesting choices that revealed further dimensions to him as an actor. His latest role in Jason Reitman's Up in the Air is as perfect a fit for him and his acting style as we've seen mainly because of how the material plays to all his strengths. For three quarters of the film it presents a lot of big, timely ideas but does so in a mostly black and white manner, glazing over the surface of what could be a deeper story. Then comes that ending.

Much of the way through Reitman handles a sensitive subject with intelligence, but also kid gloves, avoiding any shades of gray or pushing uncomfortable buttons that would compromise its mainstream appeal. Then come the final 15 minutes in which all of my complaints are addressed and the events that occur call into question the real purpose of everything that came before. In other words, Reitman takes those gloves off and only the most cynical of audience members need apply. All the accolades and likely awards the film will receive are almost exclusively earned in its final act. I appreciated the rare display of brutal honesty, as at odds as it is with the rest of the picture.

Clooney is Ryan Bingham, a "career transition counselor" who makes his living firing people for companies whose bosses don't want to do it themselves. Racking up as many frequent flier miles as he can in his quest to reach 10 million, he leads a life free of personal connections and relationships. In his successful motivational lectures across the country, he urges others to do the same and "empty their backpacks" of all people and things weighing them down. But when Natalie Keener (Anna Kendrick) a spunky 23 year-old hotshot fresh out of Cornell arrives on the scene, Ryan's boss (well played by Jason Bateman) takes to her brilliant new idea of laying people off via teleconferencing, a method Ryan believes is not only cold and impersonal, but belittles his achievements. Before he's taken off the road though he has to show Natalie the ropes and contend with his growing feelings for a woman named Alex (Vera Farmiga), another frequent flier, and maybe the only person who truly understands his transient existence and can tolerate his narcissism.

According to Ryan, the ability to lay someone off effectively goes beyond being just a skill. It's a very delicate art. And as depressing and difficult as it is to watch the many firings that take place in a variety of different scenarios (some in which real laid off workers are used), these are the most fascinating scenes in the film because they prove him right. Studies have shown being fired ranks right up there with losing a family member on the stress scale, which makes sense. If you've ever talked to someone who had to do the firing you'll notice they still have a look on their faces like they committed murder. He has an incredibly specific technique down for handling the situation in such a way as to absolve the company of any guilt while creating the illusion for these people that their lives aren't completely destroyed.

Ryan is an expert at laying people off in a condescending way without the condescension. This is in stark contrast to Natalie who attempts to implement Ryan's techniques but lacks the confidence and experience to pull it off, coming across instead as cold and robotic. When Ryan tells these people that great leaders sat in their position at one point you're tempted to believe him not only because he puts on a good show but because the facts actually back him up on it. None of these layoffs are presented in a cookie-cutter way as a lot of these scenes really are brutal, but in depicting Ryan's personal plight the script doesn't cut quite as deep, at times feeding us a rather simplistic message that someone's life is worthless without a spouse and kids to share it with. Such a broad generalization is almost as condescending as the firings taking place over the course of the film, but luckily, Reitman and co-writer Sheldon Turner's script (adapted from Walter Kirn's 2001 novel) proves to have more depth than that.

That Ryan is supposed to painted as a first-class jerk is a bit of a problem as well since, as played by Clooney, he comes across as a pretty cool guy and the carefree lifestyle he leads is depicted (unintentionally?) as being a lot of fun. The parallel between character and performer works to his favor here like it never has before, possibly at the slight expense of the film. From him, arrogance comes off instead as admirable bravado and this role would definitely fall more on the "movie star" than "actor" side of the spectrum, which is fine. He's called upon to do more at the end. It's ironic that the movie never explores the idea that Ryan's lack of connecting ties in his life could be what's making him so effective at this particular job. He's compassionate, but is able to keep a reasonable enough distance to not crack when firing someone. Relative newcomer Anna Kendrick is excellent as Natalie, the ambitious young underling learning the ropes from a pro and their working relationship evolves interestingly in that they have a lot to take from each other. Ryan can't seem to connect emotionally with anyone on any level while Natalie, as career-driven as she is, is too emotional in her personal life and it starts to spill over. It's a tightrope walk, but Kendrick aces it.

As the love interest, Vera Farmiga is less successful than Kendrick in developing a three-dimensional character mainly because she's given less to work with in terms of screen time, at least until the movie's shocking turn of events in the final minutes. She's fine in the role, but I can't help thinking her turn has been slightly overpraised just because everyone is desperate to see her land a great part after doing so much work that's flown under the radar for the past couple of years. This isn't that part. Nevertheless, she brings the right amount of class and intelligence to Alex and shares great chemistry with Clooney.

It isn't until Ryan comes home to Milwaukee for the wedding of his sister (Melanie Lynskey) and fiancee (Danny McBride) that the script starts to cash in on all the ideas it laid on the table. There's a point where the story is sure to be headed toward the most predictable destination possible, but then takes a sharp, unpredictable turn. Without giving away too much, Reitman had a choice in presenting things the way they would end in a movie or how they would REALLY end. He very wisely went for the latter and it changes the complexity of the entire story. This is one of those rare cases where the final minutes do really cause you to reevaluate everything. How? That'll largely depend on perspective, but the movie's message becomes muddled in a good way and is far from being as simplistic as I had it pegged it at the start. Forget about traveling. This ending is so depressing and painfully realistic it's more likely to have audiences wanting to jump off a plane than fly in one. It also enables Clooney the welcome opportunity to do some heavy lifting in the acting department. His natural charm and charisma may carry most of this, but at the end we're reminded how effective he also is when the material pushes him to do more.

This is about as slickly packaged a piece of mainstream, Oscar-friendly entertainment as you can expect at this time of year, directed by a filmmaker who lately seems to have had that market cornered lately with Thank You for Smoking and Juno. It was a nice surprise to discover the film contained more of Smoking's bite than I thought it would, with enough depth that it could easily hold up to repeated viewings. While I'd hate to see it rewarded just on the basis of dealing with timely, hot-button issues, there's no denying the topics explored do really speak to where we are right now in terms of downsizing and how technology has in many ways made us more disconnected than ever. It's one thing to introduce relevant ideas, but another entirely to present them well in in an engaging story that leaves a lasting impression. Because of that, Up in the Air rises slightly above the safe, audience pleasing picture it appears to be on the surface.

Juno

Director: Jason Reitman
Starring: Ellen Page, Michael Cera, Jennifer Garner, Jason Bateman, Allison Janey, J.K. Simmons, Olivia Thirlby
Running Time: 91 minutes
Rating: R

***1/2 (out of ****)

I see a lot of movies. So many in fact that it’s virtually impossible to review all of them. Every once in a while I’ll have to skip writing about a couple which usually occurs with little damage done and no looking back. Occasionally though, films I didn’t have time to review have a way of rearing their heads later and making me second guess whether I made the right call. Two of those lesser-seen films were Jason Reitman’s 2005 directorial debut Thank You For Smoking and 2006's jolting drama Hard Candy. I thought the first was a clever, biting film that I all but forgot about five minutes after it ended. I can’t say the same for Hard Candy, a certifiable masterpiece that featured an unforgettable powerhouse performance from Ellen Page as a disturbed young girl who entraps a pedophile that should have earned her an Academy Award.

Little did I know at the time that the director of one of those films and the star of the other would team up for Juno, one of the most critically acclaimed and over-hyped movies of 2007. Nor did I know that I wouldn’t be able to turn on the television without hearing their names or the personal story of the film’s screenwriter, Diablo Cody. Logging into any web site these past couple of months without seeing that ubiquitous orange stripe and the title character’s baby bump became impossible, with the media saturation of Juno reaching unrelenting heights. If everyone’s rooting for the underdog, can it really even be considered the underdog? I do wish I had gotten in on the ground level and saw it months ago because I don’t think I fully realized just how sick I was of hearing about the film until I actually entered the theater to watch it and the opening credits rolled. I asked myself why I was there and the movie answered me, erasing all my doubts for the next hour and a half.

Hype or not, any film lives or dies by its own merits and while Juno isn’t completely perfect, it’s pretty damn close and supercedes in what it’s trying to do. It takes the thankless topic of pregnancy, which was already butchered in two brain-dead films this past year, and invests it with warmth and intelligence, a small miracle considering how meager the premise is on paper. Looking beyond the quirky and sometimes unconventionally ridiculous dialogue it’s a movie that gets the little details of real life just right and features some of the best supporting performances of the year. But make no mistake about it the movie belongs to Ellen Page for her Oscar nominated turn as a pregnant teenager who the movie doesn’t ask us to necessarily like or even tolerate, but just understand. That’s an important distinction many of the film’s growing detractors have failed to recognize. But by the end of the movie Page’s performance gives us little choice but to like her, whether we want to or not. And believe me, I went in dead set against it.

After a pretty cool opening credit sequence the film has an off-putting start with quasi-hipster dialogue being sprayed all over the place that’s tough to make heads or tails of. So much so that it doesn’t even sound like the characters are speaking the English language and it takes a good ten minutes to adjust to their manner of speech because at first it sounds unlike anything you’ve heard before, either in life or in a movie. I’m suspecting that’s a major reason why Cody’s script has been attracting so much positive and negative attention, even though that really shouldn’t be what’s primarily focused on (despite how endlessly quotable and hilarious most of the quirky dialogue is). Most of these zingers are delivered by wise-cracking 16-year-old Juno MacGuff (Page) who’s gotten herself into a little bit of a “pickle,” as it’s referred to throughout the film, after sleeping with her best friend, the shy and nerdy school track team member Paulie Bleeker (Michael Cera).

A few EPT tests later she discovers she’s pregnant and at the urging of her best friend Leah (a scene-stealing Olivia Thirlby) comes clean to her maintenance man dad (J.K. Simmons) and dog-loving step-mom (Allison Janey). They’re reaction to the news is surprising and not at all what I expected and I think the reason why is because they actually reacted how real parents would. The scene is both hysterical and touching, as well as the first true sign that underneath all that showy verbiage is a story with genuine substance. A lot of credit can also go to Simmons and Janey who play their roles with pitch-perfect precision. They seem real, which is high praise considering most movie parents seem like overprotective cartoons.

After a briefly flirting with the idea of abortion and a scary clinic visit, Juno decides she’s going to give the baby up for adoption. The lucky couple (found through a PennySaver ad) is Mark and Vanessa Loring (Jason Bateman and Jennifer Garner), a pair of rich yuppies who look like they just stepped out of Town and Country magazine. Mark is a commercial jingle composer who dreams of rock stardom and seems more interested in hanging around the house watching low budget horror movies than being a dad. The uptight Vanessa’s whole world literally revolves around adopting a child. You could categorize them as stereotypes, but really, aren’t all yuppies stereotypes?

Cody’s script takes those stereotypes and somehow finds a way to present them as fresh, while at the same time investing them with considerable depth. The relationship between Mark and Vanessa just may be the most complex in the film and the turns they both take during the course of the story is surprising (or at least would have been had every media outlet not taken the liberty of spoiling it for me). Neither is exactly what they seem to be or how we perceive them at first. Nearly every relationship in this film means something and contributes to the story. The major one is obviously between Juno and Paulie but that doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of how deep everything goes.

The real skill of the movie is how it depicts the little details between the cracks. Like how the popular cheerleader is best friends with an oddball like Juno. Or how that same best friend has a hysterically unhealthy attachment to her teacher. Or how no one can believe Bleeker is capable of getting anyone pregnant. It’s tough to explain but every scene contains a little surprise or two you don’t expect, and what’s most amazing is that everything seems to look so effortless and flow so well. We see Paulie’s track team running in their ridiculous attire throughout the film indicating the passing of the seasons as we get closer to the due date. Reitman overdoes it a little with the music (provided by indie singer/songwriter Kimya Dawson) at times but no one could say it doesn’t perfectly fit Juno’s quirky sensibilities or the film’s tone. The ending is sappy and sentimental, but this is a story that actually earns it for a change. Going in I expected this to be a writer’s film more than a director’s but it’s actually Reitman’s assured handling of the material and tight control over the story that reigns in a lot of Cody’s over-the-top and occasionally self-indulgent dialogue, especially in the beginning.

It’s often forgotten that the job of a screenwriter is two-fold. The first is the actual writing of the dialogue and construction of the story, but the second tougher underlying job is making that story actually mean something. Some movies contain brilliant, snappy dialogue but behind it is no substance because we don’t care about the characters. I don’t necessarily have to believe that real people talk this way, but rather that these people would and I did for every minute of the picture.

Everyone does speak pretentiously but it doesn’t ring false because they use it as a defense mechanism against dealing with the uncomfortable situation with which they’ve been presented. That’s most true with Juno and what makes Page’s performance so special is not her ability to so naturally deliver all that quirky dialogue (although that is a huge accomplishment) but what she hints at beneath it. Yes, this girl made a stupid mistake but the movie and the characters acknowledge just how idiotic it was and deal with it. Even her.

Juno’s witty sarcasm is just her way of coping with a disaster she knows was her own doing. Saying the movie fails because the dialogue is “too clever” is completely missing the point and doesn’t take into account the bigger picture. I don’t care so much about the dialogue as much as the context it’s presented in and the purpose behind it. Page’s performance here isn’t at the level of her work in Hard Candy but considering few female performances I’ve ever seen are that’s not such a bad thing. It’s a tricky, tightrope walk that couldn’t have been executed nearly as well by any other actress and it would have been a different, far lesser film without her in the lead. If she took home the gold Oscar night you wouldn’t hear any complaints from me.

So you think the executives at Fox television have suffered enough yet for their mistreatment of Arrested Development? Have they learned their lesson? Previously known only for starring in a brilliant, but ratings-challenged show, it seems almost ironic now that Jason Bateman and Michael Cera (who don’t share a single scene together in this) are in one of the most profitable movies of the year that’s up for four Academy Awards. For anyone who watched that show this isn’t a surprise at all. What was surprising to me was how big and important a role Bateman had in the film. As I was exiting the theater I overheard an elderly couple raving about how great a job they thought Bateman did in the film. I thought the exact same thing and it just may be the great, overlooked performance of the movie that should have generated Oscar buzz of it’s own.

At times it carries the movie and the friendship that develops between his Mark and Juno is really interesting. You’re never exactly sure how the movie will handle it and a lot of that credit goes to Bateman who plays him both as a really cool guy, but someone who’s dealing with some big issues of his own as well. This is the best film work of his career so far. Cera actually doesn’t have as much screen time as you may think, but the role is invaluable and I actually thought Reitman found a way to dial his awkwardness down a notch and he gives a quietly effective, intelligent performance. Jennifer Garner doesn’t fair nearly as well as everyone else and could be considered the one weak acting link in the film. At times she seems almost a little too mannered and stilted.

The recent backlash against this film has been some of the strongest I’ve ever seen. It’s been downright scary to read the internet venom spewed, specifically at Diablo Cody. Eli Roth must be thrilled to have a couple of months off as movie buffs have channeled all their hatred toward her of late. It’s both uplifting and depressing that a script written by a ex-stripper/blogger during her lunch breaks at Target gets optioned and she’s hits the jackpot. Uplifting because it proves anything’s possible, yet depressing because it means there may be other brilliant undiscovered spec scripts hiding out there that may never see the light of day because Hollywood is too busy greenlighting Norbit 2. Considering how many aspiring screenwriters there are out there I can’t help but think that some of the anger directed at her is just pure jealousy.

The big question is whether Juno really is as good as everyone’s been saying it is. In the midst of all the hype surrounding it it’s impossible for me to answer that question right now. Time will tell whether this holds up really well or not. Its Oscar trajectory has been compared a lot recently to another small film that could, last year’s Little Miss Sunshine (also released by Fox Searchlight). That was nominated for Best Picture, shoved down our throats by the press, yet now the film seems almost trite and insignificant (and it’s only been a year). There’s no telling if the same fate will await this but as much as it pains me to say it I can’t name any more than a few films in ’07 that I thought were better than it…so far.

While part of me wonders if the film seems so good because its ambitions are so modest, there is something undeniably special and unique in feel about it and it’s hard to put a finger on exactly what. It has an original voice and at its center is a strong female character, something we’re not given nearly enough of in mainstream movies these days. I can’t say I’ll be rooting hard for it on Oscar night but that’s the media fault, not the film’s. If Reitman, Cody and Page are normal people like I suspect they are they’re probably as burnt out and as sick of talking about the movie as we are hearing about it. I’m sure they’re ready to move on to the next thing and I know I’ve had my fill of pregnancy movies. Any more and I’ll probably go into labor myself. But at the end of the day, the fact that Juno is a very good film is tough to ignore. And that’s all that should matter.