The Good Night

There's something about dreams that requires relaxation and patience. They have a certain fluidity about them that if they're hurried or rushed they just aren't as effective. As is fitting for a film about dreams, "The Good Night" works because of good acting and gentle pacing. The result is one of those good old fashioned dark comedies that walks the line between drama and dark humor.

Martin Freeman is one of these actors that takes grips on the "average guy" role and has as much fun as he can with it. As Gary, the band member turned commercial music composer, he is effective in demonstrating his lack of joy in his current relationship with Dora (Gwyneth Paltrow) and sinking into obsessive dreams about the make believe Anna (Penelope Cruz). Freeman is always a good lead because no matter what he does, he's likable and we're always rooting him on, even as Dora calls him a jerk and she's probably right at one point.

But a lot of the humor in the film comes from the supporting players. Simon Pegg is always a no brainer for comedy because of his spot on delivery. As Gary's friend and boss, Paul, he jumps into the role of the somewhat amoral friend with his own relationship problems. However, he does still listen to Gary and even takes joy in some of his obsessiveness.

Then there's Danny Devito, playing the typical Danny Devito character as he hosts a dream support group but works odd jobs and hasn't had a relationship of his own for over 40 years. Despite all this, he still hears Gary out and Gary takes a lot of his advice. Devito has a lot of good one liners and a very funny introduction scene.

As to the movie as a whole, it's good but not great. Definitely worth a look. Part of me saw this as a dark comedy going through the motions and becoming very predictable as we got closer to the end. The premise was very fresh though and director Jake Paltrow really seizes the opportunity of capturing the dreamlike quality of some of the scenes. The performances and well paced direction really glue the movie together though, and at 90 minutes, it's not a bad movie to give a watch.

If indie dramas are to believed, there are essentially two reasons why there is so much unhappiness in the world (at least among the more privileged classes who have the time and resources to think of such things): a) people can't stand the idea of being alone in the world, yet they also can't stand the idea of being with another person for long stretches of time either, and b) it's hard to come to terms with the contrast between what we imagined our life would be like and what it actually turned out to be.

A case in point is "The Good Night," a mid-life-crisis drama with a surrealistic twist. Gary is a songwriter/musician who used to be part of a band but who has now been reduced to writing commercial jingles and scores for second-rate TV shows. A somewhat de-glamorized Gwyneth Paltrow plays Gary's nagging long-time girlfriend who's definitely become disenchanted with their relationship, while the ultra-glamorous Penelope Cruz stars as the literal woman of his dreams – until she materializes and becomes a part of his waking world that is. In fact, a fairly large chunk of the movie's running time is taken up with Gary's dreams, which inevitably feature this alluring figure who stands in obvious counterpoint to Dora's flesh-and-blood imperfections. And then there's Danny De Vito as the scene-stealing New Age dream-whisperer who attempts to maneuver Gary through his crisis.

The point of the film, written and directed by Jake Paltrow (brother of Gwyneth), seems to be that ideal worlds and ideal relationships exist only in dreams, and that, if you want to survive and maybe even find a little bit of happiness in this life, you had better start accepting some compromises and limitations and not, as Voltaire once opined, make the perfect the enemy of the good. Even Gary's dream-woman is eventually unmasked as a relatively pedestrian fashion model who definitely does not live up to the dreams and fantasies Gary has about her before he meets her in the actual flesh.

The movie does a nice job transitioning back and forth between the world of reality and the world of dreams, and the actors demonstrate an astute understanding of the roles they are playing. Some of the conversations and arguments the lovers engage in are almost too painfully realistic at times, with Dora, in particular, unloading her feelings on Gary to withering effect.

It's not exactly a world-shaking human drama, but it offers some insightful observations into those maddeningly messy things we euphemistically call "romantic relationships."

The idea is interesting enough. A musician in his thirties suffers from a major dip in his career and his relationship. But instead of addressing these problems, and have a serious talk with his girlfriend, the main character is more interested in explaining his childish dreams of a hot brunette. I didn't feel gripped for one minute by the story. And at the end, we are supposed to believe that Gary has surmounted his problems because the dreamgirl has said she for one believes in him. He composes a piano tune, gets one more chance from his girlfriend, and that's that. By the way, why has Paltrow used the documentary form? Was there anything to make a documentary about? The guy broke his leg, for heaven's sake. That's not to say there's nothing enjoyable about this film, but it's very little. It's okay if director's debut doesn't smash box office records or win three Palms in Venice. But Paltrow should dig deeper into his subject before making any other movie at all. No matter how good your cast is (and it's pretty decent), without good ideas, any film is bound to disappoint.

Being a fan of Gwyneth Paltrow and Penelope Cruz, seeing the neat looking poster, and having an interest in the exploration of dreams in films, I decided to give The Good Night a try. Little did I know the nightmare that would become the next hour of my life. The Good Night has an inadequate exposition; it's a poorly introduced and explained film that flatlines for the first hour. If The Good Night would've supplied the theaters showing it with sleeping masks like 3D movies handing out glasses, it would've been a more enjoyable night out.

I love watching films about our dreams. When filmmakers make us think about our subconscious when we rest and the truths we realize about ourselves are extremely interesting to me. The only truth Martin Freeman learns about his dreams until the third act is how much he wants to have sex with Penelope Cruz. The storyline of the film doesn't warrant the film's existence. The Good Night tries to comment on a mid-life crisis, but inaccurately musters up a conventional, musty representation of one.

The simple thoughts the filmmakers built the film on could've been the starting point of intriguing ideas, but instead feel like they were tomatoes, cut in half, placed on hot pavement, under the sun on the hottest day of the year. Every idea is dried up and are roasted by the lack of effort. The first hour contains some really awful dialogue on top of the lack of development behind the plot. The person who designed Gwyneth Paltrow's character's look should've been fired, her unflattering hair is the thing I focused on most of her screen time due to lack of interest in The Good Night's third-rate production.

A thought that I literally squealed out of my mouth during The Good Night was "How did this script and director attract this cast?" The cast is not as ghastly as the rest of the film. Gwyneth Paltrow actually delivers a few great scenes throughout and the film finally begins to wake up when Penelope Cruz's character is not just a figment of the imagination anymore, Cruz is much to thank for the film's kick in the ass to at least shift out of reverse. The one upside of the script is the occasional sincere quotes about life. The Good Night does begin to look up in the last half hour. It finally starts to dig deeper into the Paltrow-Freeman relationship, I began to feel this trip wasn't completely waste of my time.

When I was watching The Good Night I had no clue who the director was that I was throwing insults at in my head. After finishing, I was informed it was none other than Gwyneth Paltrow's brother, Jake Paltrow. When the talent was being divvied up in the family, it's clear Jake wasn't given the fair amount. The Good Night is poorly made and dreadfully thought up, though the film's last act begins to rectify the harm of the first hour, there's no salvaging the departed film. The bottom line is, The Good Night shouldn't have been telling us how to have a mid-life crisis, it should've been living one. It's unmistakably obvious The Good Night isn't even as deep as the paper in which its script has been typed on.

Rating: 4

Grade: C-

Making a movie about dreams or dreaming is tough, and it shows in this one. The difficulty with dreams in any bit of fiction is that they can't be held accountable; that is, by definition, there isn't any kind of direct correspondence between dream occurrences and narrative significance. A dream (singular) here and there can enrich a narrative with symbolism, causality, subconscious, but when the dream becomes plural then almost universally a story starts to break down. Having gritted my teeth through movies like Waking Life and The Cell, to name a few, I've come to associate "dream" with "lazy" in cinema.

That being said, I had to see what Simon Pegg and Martin Freeman would do in a movie together. And the bottom line is, due to these two guys, the movie is worth a watch. Don't may more than $4 to see it.

What you get really is a movie without consequences. You have Martin Freeman obsessed with a dream character. OK, kind of interesting, but there's not enough dimension to his girlfriend (Paltrow), who just seems like a nag, or his friend/former bandmate (Pegg), who, granted, is extremely funny but ultimately without Pathos, to really make his dream obsession a truly engrossing psychological/sociological study.

And again, what happens here is that the dream sequences, and even the obsession with them, because of the, by definition, incommensurable quality of dreams, their inability to be authentically expressed through proxy (language, film, journals, etc.), leave us as audience members bereft of any feeling of causality, arc, or direction.

Also, as a sidenote, the pseudo-documentary format that the film opens with and halfheartedly maintains is confusing and ultimately misdirecting. It ends up looking like the mistake of a novice director.

Martin Freeman performs his lines well, Pegg is funny, DeVito is a pleasing eccentric, and Paltrow isn't as annoying as she usually is (however Cruz is somewhat intolerable), so the movie is worth seeing once, if you've got nothing better to do.