davidoutwest

Sorry, IMDb, but this film is absolutely NOT a romantic comedy - or any other kind of comedy. (Have you even watched it, IMDb?) And while it does involve romance, it is anything but feel-good. It is, rather, a surprisingly dark drama - not a dramedy; just a drama - that, yes, does provide a few good laughs in its opening scenes, then executes a speedy bait-and-switch, revealing itself to be a feel-bad soap opera (a descriptor you may wish to adopt, IMDb).

This is not to say that it's a bad movie; far from it. It's a frank (albeit exaggerated), frequently insightful, breathtakingly cynical take on marriage, dating, love, money, class, and the unrealistic expectations so many of us (present company included) bring to those matters. It mostly works, too, until the third act, when it tries to execute a Hail Mary, veering sharply (if predictably) away from the cynicism that up to that point had been its entire raison d'être (and which, obviously, inspired its perfect title) and instead offering its viewers something rather different and, to this viewer's mind, wholly unconvincing.

Trashy guilty-pleasure fun. Star turns by Tom Hollander, Naomi Watts, and Diane Lane; decent performances by the almost unrecognizable Demi Moore, the completely unrecognizable Molly Ringwald (don't be fooled by the photo below), and the completely recognizable, uncharacteristically scenery-chewing Calista Flockhart. (Chloe Sevigny, who I often love, was wooden and forgettable here.)

But this thin little story, built on the tiniest of events -- perfect for a 4-ep miniseries or even a single 90-minute movie --had absolutely NO business being stretched into 8 redundant, repetitive (see what I did there?), tiresome episodes with a needlessly nonlinear structure.

If you're looking for a Spielberg film that is expressly about, and only about, Spielberg, you can't do better than this one. While annoyingly self-indulgent (and not only in its running time), largely unnecessary (in the opinion of everyone except Spielberg-and, presumably, his therapist), and characteristically unsubtle, it does feature some amazing performances and moving scenes, almost all thanks to Michelle Williams. Sadly, there are also far too many over-the-top performances and superfluous scenes. But, hell, if you're co-writing and helming a movie about your own life, I suppose you have artistic license to direct it any way you see fit.

Still, if you're trying to achieve anything close to reality, here are three things you probably shouldn't do, especially in your film's first five minutes: (1) Open with an unnecessarily specific title card - "January 10, 1952" - and then proceed to have your dad character ask your son character, as they're driving home from the movies, "So, Sammy, what do you want for Hanukkah?" (2) As the family arrives home, have Sammy grouse about the fact that his family's house - again, on January 10th - is the only one on the block not decorated with Christmas lights.

(3) Show your characters placing and lighting the candles of their menorah - on that same January night - in the wrong order.

As Judd Hirsch's furniture-chewing Uncle Boris character might say: Oy.