Tag Archives: Drama

Arrival (2016)

The typical movie about aliens coming to earth is a war movie where humanity has to fight off their attackers. Arrival chooses to examine this situation from two other perspectives: a linguist trying to communicate with them and the divided nations struggling to deal with this potential threat and its social and economic implications. Amy Adams (Man of Steel) plays Louise Banks, a professor of linguistics hired by the government to find out why the aliens have come to earth. She is aided by Ian Donnely (Jeremy Renner; The Hurt Locker), a theoretical physicist, and led by Colonel Weber (Forest Whitaker; Lee Daniels’ The Butler). As they make contact with the aliens, Louise discovers they use an extremely complex form of writing and struggles to understand them while dealing with exhaustion and visions of a young child.

The most frustrating, but realistic, aspect of the film is how terrible earth’s nations are at anything that requires coordination. After the aliens arrive, people are in disarray, economies tank, and the media goes wild with conspiracy theories and unfounded, inflammatory advice. Initially, the nations form a coalition and share their progress, but that changes when one country learns of something that might be a potential weapon. They immediately go offline and the rest of the world follows, effectively ending any cooperation despite its clear benefits. The aliens are viewed from a military defense perspective, not a scientific one. The Colonel tells Louise that everything she does has to be reported up to “a group of men asking ‘How can this be used against us?'”. Their fear causes them to make grave mistakes and construe any alien action (or non-action) as a potential threat of war. The script very convincingly captures how the mentality of self-preservation would likely doom any chance of a unified global effort.

Who knew linguistics could be so exciting?
Who knew linguistics could be so exciting?

The linguistics perspective provides a fresh take on familiar subject matter. Louise’s slow discovery process with the aliens is fascinating. Despite the incredibly complicated nature of the task, the closest parallel is a parent teaching a child to read, but with enormous consequences. Louise and Ian learn and teach certain words until they are able to form and understand rudimentary sentences. Director Denis Villeneuve (Sicario) shoots the film with the foreboding tracking shots he has become known for. Each step forward is hard-earned and grants reprieve from the threat of conflict present throughout their meetings. Some may find the pacing of their discovery to be sluggish, but it feels realistic given the difficulty of their objective.

The veracity of Arrival‘s interesting angle is damaged by a hokey twist. There are hints that there is more to a character’s life than explicitly stated, but when this comes to fruition the deeper element is revealed to be a giant plot hole. As different governments plan to take offensive actions, Louise and Ian are working against their own government as much as they are an alien language. This creates an interesting dilemma as it is unclear how they will overcome this obstacle, but instead of attempting to grow the situation towards a climax, the screenwriter, or perhaps the writer of the short story the film is based on, uses a sci-fi element as a get-out-of-jail-free card to resolve the conflict. It is in complete opposition with the film’s sober tone and damages its intent. Arrival‘s realistic approach to encountering aliens is debilitated by a contrived plot device.

3/5 stars.

Hacksaw Ridge (2016)

Given the controversial remarks made ten years ago, it’s easy to forget who Mel Gibson really is. He is a talented actor (Mad Mqx) and has proven himself as a director as well (Braveheart). After being blacklisted for almost a decade, Gibson makes his return behind the camera with Hacksaw Ridge. The film covers the true story of Desmond Doss (Andrew Garfield; The Amazing Spider-Man), the first conscientious objector to win a medal of honor. Desmond is a deeply religious young man who grew up in Virginia with an abusive, alcoholic father (Hugo Weaving struggling to maintain a southern accent while displaying the slurred speech of a drunk; The Matrix). After WWII begins, Desmond joins the army with the goal of working as a medic. He refuses to touch a firearm, due to his religious beliefs, but is convinced he can still serve his country.

Gibson’s favorite themes of religion and duty provide the backbone to the film. Doss is almost a messiah-like figure. He encounters strong opposition during his difficult but surprisingly funny basic training. He is the model of morality and Gibson lays on the religious imagery thick. The camera circles around Doss as water cleans off the blood and dirt of battle in a blatantly Christ-like fashion.  For some, the often hamfisted allegory will be upsetting.

Doss risks his life to save his brothers in battle.
Doss risks his life to save his brothers in battle.

Despite his saintly behavior, Doss never becomes preachy. Instead, he is portrayed as a lovable simpleton. He is the regular boy whose dumb grin and boundless faith and optimism will allow him to accomplish things any normal person would be too cynical to attempt. It only takes one interaction with a woman for him to go home and tell his mom that he has met his future wife. Garfield may sometimes push too far into Forrest Gump territory, but it’s hard to care when his attitude provides such a welcome contrast to the pessimism prevalent in his peers and most modern day characters. In a world where brooding has become the norm, Doss provides the counterargument that unwavering conviction can be just as involving.

The majority of the film takes place on the battlefield. Hacksaw Ridge itself is littered with dead bodies, dugouts, and fortified caves, the Japanese use for cover. Gibson manages to balance the scale and chaos of the larger battle with the intensity of a single soldier’s fight.  As guns are fired and bombs explode, the camera never turns away from the damage. Blood splatters and limbs fly leaving behind bloody stumps. Even as the film rapidly cuts between action, the fighting is never disorienting. The danger is intense and every moment holds potential disaster.

Gibson has never been a cerebral filmmaker; his intentions are always emotional. During Doss’s objection, Gibson never explores the morality of violence during war. There are brief mentions of extenuating circumstances, but he is more interested in the impact that one’s beliefs can have on themselves and others. The strength of Doss’s faith gives his fellow soldiers something to latch onto. As their world literally explodes around them, his belief in God is the one constant they can depend upon. It allows them to overcome the illogical act of returning to a battlefield. Gibson uses Doss’s story to show how spiritual conviction can conquer even extreme situations.

4/5 stars.

A War (2016)

Is it a crime to try to save your own men? Tobias Lindholm (A Hijacking) explores this question in A War. Commanding officer Claus Pedersen (Pilou Asbæk; Game of Thrones) leads his team of Danish soldiers in Afghanistan. When a local family attempts to seek refuge in their military base after the Taliban informs them that they will die unless the father becomes a warrior, Claus assures them that they can return home and that the soldiers will come back to stop the Taliban. As they try to make good on their promise, the Danes soon find themselves under fire and Claus makes a decision to ensure the safe extraction of a gravely wounded soldier. He survives but Claus is placed under investigation because, unbeknownst to him, his order caused the death of several civilians and his reasoning is brought into question.

Lindholm excels at creating realistic drama. The military scenes are shot with a Direct Cinema verisimilitude that never over-dramatizes an action. Movements are subtle and the film feels deliberately stripped down. This method of staging makes the violence of battle a tangible fear and the potential consequences are apparent with every decision. Lindholm would make a great action film director if he ever chose make the switch. It’s a shame that there are so few of these scenes in the film.

Claus's trial creates the central dilemma.
The verdict of Claus’s trial becomes the central dilemma.

Instead, his main focus is the aftermath of the battle. Claus is sent home and put on trial for the deaths of the civilians. The prosecutors are claiming that he made the critical decision without information required by law – that he ordered a bombing without having a positive ID on military targets. Claus’s innocence (or guilt) is not ambiguous and the truth behind his decision is made clear to the viewer. Lindholm’s true desire is to explore how Claus will defend himself. Will he tell a lie if it means a chance at an acquittal? Does it matter? As one character puts it, “The issue is not what you should have done, but what you do now.” The impact of these decisions goes beyond Claus himself. He has a wife and three young children and by all other accounts is a skilled soldier. Who will benefit from him going to prison? Who will really be punished?

Lindholm’s choice to quickly leave the war-zone and enter the courtroom is a risky one. When in Afghanistan, he deftly handles the battle scenes and makes the small scale battles feel pivotal. His stripped down style creates tension from realism and this applies to legal battles too. As in A Hijacking, he portrays a man in conflict between doing what appears right and what will be the least painful. The strength of the legal scenes comes from Claus’s relationships with his men and the potential damage to his family. How will his reporting officers testify? It’s clear that many of them are more than just direct reports and unfavorable, but perhaps truthful, statements could not only damage their friendship but also send a good man to jail. While these cross examinations are interesting, they can’t compete with the intensity of the action scenes. They feel somewhat deflated in comparison. Despite a shift in focus, A War examines the split second decisions made in battle and the morality of their repercussions with engrossing realism and nuance.

4/5 stars.

Café Society (2016)

Café Society continues Woody Allen’s love affair with the past. While Midnight in Paris had him going back to the 1920s, here we have a glossy depiction of the 1930s. Jessie Eisenberg (The Social Network) plays Bobby, a young Jewish man from New York City who moves to Hollywood hoping that his successful agent uncle Phil (Steve Carell; The Office) will give him a job. Deliberately estranged from his family and career focused, Phil ignores Bobby for weeks until finally offering him work doing odd jobs. Since Bobby doesn’t know anyone in the city yet, Phil asks his secretary Vonnie (Kristen Stewart; Clouds of Sils Maria) to show him around town. Bobby soon falls for Vonnie and even though she clearly has feelings for him, she can’t reciprocate because she is already in another relationship.

The film is decidedly safe territory for Allen. The tropes are well worn with the characters almost prewritten. Bobby is Allen’s typical protagonist, meaning he is Woody Allen himself, but the performance is inconsistent. Eisenberg oscillates between his own shtick, the fast talking staccato phrases from The Social Network, to Allen’s self-deprecating nervous ticks. The standout performance is Kristen Stewart’s. Her anti-commercial attitude contrasts nicely with the materialist celebrities and big shots Phil socializes with and makes her the one down-to-earth person in a Hollywood filled with superficiality. The clothes she wears only add to her appeal and further distinguish her. The other characters are dressed in period appropriate clothing but Vonnie’s outfits, while perhaps overly twee, are more like a present-day fashion brand’s lineup of ’30s inspired clothing than something actually of the era. They add a modern twist to the old fashioned elegance. Vonnie’s combination of unique personality and looks make it only natural for Bobby to be so deeply interested in her.

Allen and Storaro take the "Golden Age of Hollywood" quite literally.
Allen and Storaro take the “Golden Age of Hollywood” quite literally.

The film leans heavily on its visuals. The famous cinematographer Vittorio Storaro (Apocalypse Now) lovingly recreates the era. This is Allen’s first film shot digitally and he and Storaro take full advantage of the format’s advantages when it comes to color correction. Scenes alternate between being shot in sepia tone and bathed in golden light from a sun that appears to be constantly at dusk. Does it make sense that everything seems take place before sundown? No, but it doesn’t matter. Their goal is to capture nostalgia and they achieve it. This artifice sometimes removes the scenes from any sense of reality, but is worth it for the gorgeous colors.

It’s the lack of emotional involvement that ultimately debilitates the film. There are brief moments when complications arise in Vonnie and Bobby’s relationship that entice, but most of the film is only engaging because of its visuals. Characters seem to be defined by quirky mannerisms rather than internal motivations. These idiosyncrasies can be momentarily amusing but aren’t enough to build any character depth. Even Vonnie, the film’s best and most fully developed character, eventually becomes like the other Hollywood socialites. Her previously attractive traits are gone and with them the film’s charm.  Like many of the stars at Phil’s parties, Café Society is visually attractive, unoffensive, and provides a few laughs, but isn’t substantial enough to stop it from joining the list of Woody Allen movies no one will be able to remember a few years from now.

3/5 stars.

Embers (2016)

Embers takes place in a near future where a virus that causes memory loss has spread to the entire population. When people go to sleep or even after only waiting a few minutes, they forget who they are and what they are doing. The world as we know it has collapsed and the remaining survivors wander aimlessly through the destroyed homes, picking up and losing companions along the way. We are presented a few different stories. A man (Jason Ritter; Freddy vs. Jason) and a woman (Iva Gocheva; Sneakers) wake up next to each other in a dilapidated home. Neither recalls their names or their relationship to each other. The only clue they have is a blue piece of cloth each has tied around their wrists, indicating some type of connection. They decide that they must have been a couple, settle on names for each other, and explore the area, searching for supplies. A parallel story involves a man and his young adult daughter who have been living in an underground bunker for the past decade. While cutoff from society, the two are also disease free and can recall their past. Their zoned days and nights are a point of contention for the daughter who wants to experience more than their routine existence.

The setting reflects the lives of the characters. Without the memory of having a home, nothing has been maintained. Buildings are crumbling, rooms are in disarray, and everything seems to be abandoned. Even the cinematography feels blank. The colors are desaturated with the palette emphasizing shades of gray above all else. The world feels deliberately empty and drained of life.

The dialogue is void of emotion as the characters are of memory.
The dialogue is as void of emotion as the characters are of memory.

Interactions between characters are unfortunately as cold and stilted as the environment. The initial conversation between Ritter and Gocheva feels unprofessional, like first time actors attempting a dry run at a scene. The dialogue itself is weighed down by the exposition clumsily woven in to explain the background of the world. Each time the characters try to connect verbally, it only shows how poorly written the film is.  As the father and daughter argue over the value of a dull, repetitive life with memory versus a uncertain but varied life without it, the gravity of their discussion never hits home. It just feels like a whiny, immature child arguing with a controlling parent. Even when it gestures at deeper emotions, the combination of amateur acting and underdeveloped dialogue undercut the film’s ambitions.

There are only a few moments when the film is able to successfully explore the implications of its premise. The rapid memory loss means that even the strongest emotions and events in a life, good or bad, will soon be forgotten. This has effects beyond simply forgetting one’s own name. A severe, life-changing emotional trauma can simply evaporate. People stop in the middle of crying because they have forgotten why they started in the first place. A short separation from a loved one can lead to forgetting their existence. How does a child develop without the ability to form memories? First time director Claire Carré clearly wants to explore these scenarios but loses sight of her goals in favor of explaining the setup. Instead of fully examining the consequences or benefits of life without memory, Embers squanders its interesting premise with wooden acting and exposition heavy dialogue.

2/5 stars.

Swiss Army Man (2016)

Swiss Army Man is perhaps the strangest film to come out this year. Paul Dano (Love & Mercy) plays Hank, a man marooned on a small island about to hang himself in desperation until a body washes onshore. That body is the corpse of Daniel Radcliffe (Harry Potter) and upon realizing the body is dead, Hank returns to hanging himself until he is interrupted by the corpse violently convulsing. He realizes the corpse is farting and propelling itself across the water. Then Hank does the only natural thing and proceeds to ride the body like a jet ski fueled by flatulence. The duo make it to a nearby shore and attempt to reach society. Along the way the body slowly comes to life. Manny, the dead body, starts by barely talking then gains more abilities like spewing water for Hank to drink.

The beginning of the film may alienate viewers. The focus on farts, bodily fluids, and other bodily functions initially seem juvenile and can be repulsive. Nobody wants to watch someone drink water spraying out of someone else’s mouth. While these may be the most talked about aspects of the film, the directors Daniel Scheinert and Daniel Kwan (credited as “Daniels”) only use these as plot devices to advance the story. They are interested in much more than the sometimes vulgar beginning.

Hank's etiquette lessons are detailed.
Hank’s etiquette lessons are incredibly detailed.

Daniel Radcliffe deserves enormous credit for his performance. His absolute commitment to the role make the character somehow believable and likable. His partially fixed facial expressions, belabored voice, and cumbersome movements all convey a body recovering from rigor mortis. As Manny becomes more intelligent and gains an ever expanding array of uses, Radcliffe’s delivery makes the character seem authentically new to the world. His acting is what makes the emotional impact of the story possible.

The film proves to be about the relationship between Hank and Manny. Hank goes to great lengths to carry Manny with him as they try to find their way back home. Along the way he does his best to educate Manny on how to behave like a living human being. He constructs elaborate, but makeshift, recreations of regular life to show Manny how to interact with others. The main skill he focuses on is talking to an attractive stranger on the bus. The Daniels use this process to examine love from an elementary perspective. Manny’s increasing intellect leads to several childlike questions that probe at social conventions. He speaks his mind because he doesn’t know what or why inhibitions exist and as Hank tries to answer, he discovers the insecurities that have caused him to miss out on life. A recurring topic is “What does weird mean?” and the role of other people’s perceptions. Hank sees how he let his lack of confidence prevent him from taking the actions necessary to achieve his desires. During these lessons, the connection between Hank and Manny grows and the power of their friendship emerges as a major theme that is examined with uncommon depth. The film becomes a story of self-actualization and building confidence to become comfortable in one’s own skin. Swiss Army Man is a sweet, earnest exploration of social norms and the value of strong bonds, but done in the most bizarre way possible

4/5 stars.

The Light Between Oceans (2016)

Despite its similar naming structure, The Light Between Oceans, shares few similarities to its predecessor The Place Beyond the Pines. Set in Australia shortly after WWI, the film stars Michael Fassbender (Shame) as Tom Sherbourne, a veteran hired as a lightkeeper for a remote island. Soon, he meets and falls in love with Isabel (Alicia Vikander; Ex Machina). After their marriage, they have two miscarriages within three years leaving Isabel despondent until a rowboat washes ashore. Inside they find a dead man and the baby girl that will forever change their lives. Tom attempts to report the incident, but buckles under Isabel’s desire to have a child.

Once the little girl, Lucy, enters the picture, Tom and Isabel’s lives are filled with joy. They play with their new daughter and show her off to their family and friends. The hapiness lasts until her christening where Tom spots a tearful woman, Hannah (Rachel Weisz; The Deep Blue Sea), praying in front of a grave for her husband and infant daughter who were lost at sea the same day he found Lucy. Racked with guilt and unable to persuade Isabel to confess their sins, Tom leaves a note for Hannah letting her know her baby is safe, but her husband is dead. What soon follows is a messy situation. Lucy taken from the parents she knows to the rightful mother she wants nothing to do with as Tom and Isabel face repercussions of their actions.

In its early parts, The Light Between Oceans resembles a Nicholas Sparks movie. The leads only require one picnic before Isabel brings up the idea of marriage so they can spend the next 10 minutes handwriting cliche-ridden professions of love a la Dear John. “I never knew I could talk about the way I feel”, writes Tom. Cianfrance’s films are known for their raw intensity of character interactions. He’s been called an “actor’s director” because he is able to create an original intimacy even in predictable situations, like the relationship in Blue Valentine. This makes the overly simplistic beginning to the central romance especially disappointing. Fassbender and Vikander are a real life couple, but their early scenes of courtship (or rather the single scene) feel forced. It’s like the director looked at the actors and said “Be perfect for each other” and started rolling. Isabel’s optimism doesn’t match with Tom’s taciturn demeanor and it’s unclear why either has developed affection. Fortunately, the romance becomes more believable as the two grow closer during the hardships they face.

The gorgeous scenery monopolizes the early parts of the film. Excessive, but beautiful.
The gorgeous scenery monopolizes the early parts of the film. Excessive, but beautiful.

The Sparks comparison extends to the setting and cinematography. The film is set by the ocean with an overabundance of landscape shots. Granted, the visuals are breathtaking. Ocean waves crashing against the shore and lonely sunsets dominate the first half of the movie. While aesthetically stunning, the focus on the backdrops unnecessarily slows down the film’s pace and has the unintended effect of distancing the viewer from the central conflict. The fading light of the sun seems to carry equal importance to Tom and Isabel’s relationship early on, but Cianfrance lacks the ability to imbue meaning into the natural imagery. He is not Terrence Malick.

In the final act the film, Cianfrance finally delivers on the emotional resonance he is known for. Actions have consequences, and the depth of Tom and Isabel’s relationship is shown, not told, as they take steps to protect each other. Here, the professions of love are earned. In some ways, The Light Between Oceans is Cianfrance’s version of a Merchant Ivory film. Romantic, but deliberately old-fashioned with his natural inclinations muted until the end. Still, not many filmmakers working today can match Cianfrance’s ability to draw out an emotional response. The feelings come like waves hitting the rocks of the island, overwhelming and powerful. While the The Light Between Oceans starts out slow, the scenery is enough to carry the film to its piercing final third.

4/5 stars.

The Fits (2016)

Anna Rose Holmer’s directorial debut, The Fits, is a look into a young girl entering a new social group. Toni (Royalty Hightower) is an 11 year old girl who trains with her older brother’s boxing team at the local community center. In another wing of the building, there is a successful dance team filled with girls her age. To Toni, the dance team occupies a different world and she is curious. After some coaxing from her brother, she tries out and joins the group. The film explores her gradual assimilation in the face of a sickness that begins soon after she joins.

Holmer does a great job of portraying Toni’s outsider status. Even as the other girls are fairly welcoming, the distancing effect created by repeated shots with only Toni in focus show how foreign this new world is to her. She has only experienced the social dynamics of her brother’s friends and doesn’t know what to do when faced with the gossip, nail painting, and ear piercing of the girls dance team. Hightower’s stoic but wide-eyed stare convey her genuine confusion at the accepted customs of her team members. Her performance successfully balances her unfamiliarity while still charming through flashes of her youthful naivete.

The natural performances ground the film's plot.
The natural performances ground the film’s plot.

The film attempts to create tension using techniques most commonly seen in the horror genre. Holmer dials into the slow tracking shots, the muffled chatter, and the high pitched audio feedback found in a James Wan film. While these techniques establish a creepy atmosphere, the film isn’t able to build tension over time because of how the fits are depicted. Despite being the supposed center of the story, the fits themselves feel like background events. Toni’s detachment from the other girls prevents these episodes from feeling like credible dangers. Even as other characters begin to fear for their safety, Toni is never worried and this complacence extends to the audience. We too have little interest in the symptoms, effectively preventing any true fear from being created because we can’t be afraid of something that isn’t important.

Toni’s alienation and desire for acceptance into this new group mirrors the spread of the fits. The leaders of the dance team are the first to contract the issue and it slowly works its way down the food chain. The fits become an initiation rite as the kids start to divide themselves based on whether or not they have experienced them. The metaphorical implications of the fits during an exploration of gender roles alone would have made a compelling narrative, but the adherence to horror trappings without being able to produce the desired dread create a promising film with divergent goals that never reach fruition.

3/5 stars.

Dheepan (2016)

Dheepan is a realistic portrayal of the refugee immigrant experience undermined by a third act tonal shift towards the melodramatic. The film opens on wartorn Sri Lanka, where bodies are being cremated en masse as families are broken and the individuals remaining struggle to survive. A woman searches the camp for a girl without a mother and we soon find out why as she takes a girl to a tent with a soldier and another man. The three civilians are going to adopt the names of a recently deceased family. Forget their previous lives, the man, woman, and child are now Dheepan (Antonythasan Jesuthasan),  Yalini (Kalieaswari Srinivasan), and Illyaal (Claudine Vinasithamby) and will be migrating to France with their newfound passports. When they arrive, they are placed into housing and attempt to start a new, better life.

Jacques Audiarad (A Prophet) is known for directing films with uncompromising detail. He continues that trend here as he probes the personal struggles of those escaping a conflict and assimilating into a new culture. The main characters are not just escaping their homeland, they are strangers posing as a family using passports of the deceased, inventing fake backstories along the way. They are desperate and not necessarily virtuous. Audiard does not spare any of the characters from his gaze. Dheepan and Yalini turn blind eyes to the activities in their neighborhood to ensure their safety and Illayaal reacts violently when rejected by other schoolchildren. The director isn’t interested in a clean tale of redemption or upwards mobility, he wants to portray the grim sacrifices made to survive in a foreign land.

The characters grow closer as they struggle together.

This continues until the latter portion of the film clashes with the initial intent. As tension increases between rival factions within their apartment complex, Dheepan makes a sudden, bold move. Without revealing too much, this action is supported by his past but, in light of the earlier tone of the film, is a drastic and unnecessary change. In a Hollywood production, this type of ending would be typical if not welcome, but here it breaks the established immersion. Audiard’s goal with this decision was probably to show how the experience of living through a conflict remains long after the danger has passed, as evidenced by brief foreshadowing flashbacks, but the bravado it is presented with almost glamorizes the violence that takes place.

It’s a shame that the strong setup is wasted by the action set pieces because the progression of the characters provided a compelling story. We were able to watch as they scrapped their way to a better life, moving from a barren apartment to a furnished home, from individuals using each other for personal benefit to a family unit, and from strangers in an alien world to a gradual incorporation into their new milieu. Instead of steadily gaining speed with the naturally escalating tension, Audiard’s examination of the complexities of immigration is gravely injured by his changing interests and only hobbles to the finish line.

3/5 stars.

Maggie’s Plan (2016)

Filled with professional intellectuals and set in New York City, Maggie’s Plan initially comes off as a misplaced Woody Allen comedy but soon reveals itself to be a much kinder film than most of Allen’s body of work. Maggie (Greta Gerwig; Frances Ha) is a university faculty member intent on having a child, regardless of her current relationship status, until she enters an unexpected relationship with anthropology professor John (Ethan Hawke; Before Midnight). Unfortunately, John is married to Georgette (Julianne Moore; Still Alice), a needy and career focused fellow professor at a different school. As a result of their affair, John divorces Georgette and marries Maggie which leads to the child Maggie had been hoping for. After a few years of marriage, it becomes clear that Maggie and John are no longer working out, but instead of leaving like a sane person would do she creates the titular plan. Maggie notices that he still spends hours talking to his ex-wife and realizes that Georgette was indeed right for him. Together the two women create a scenario for Georgette and John to meet and hopefully rekindle their feelings for one another.

In a film with otherwise solid acting, Moore delivers one of the most hamstrung performances of her career. She has proven herself consistently reliable in a wide range of roles from an adult film star in Boogie Nights to a professor in Still Alice, but here she crashes and burns underneath a repulsive accent. Where is she supposed to be from…England? France? Germany? Is it just a speech impediment? Depending on the specific scene it could be any of those choices. Director Rebecca Miller (The Private Lives of Pippa Lee) was likely aiming to make Georgette appear more sophisticated but the gimmick is entirely unnecessary. Moore’s acting alone would have been convincing enough, but saddled with an accent that would make Tommy Wiseau jealous, her delivery detracts from an otherwise well-written character.

I have absolutely no idea where Georgette is supposed to be from.
I have absolutely no idea what accent Georgette is supposed to have.

Conversely, the character of Maggie is always enchanting. Her attempts at almost Machiavellian manipulation are softened by Gerwig’s performance as she imbues Maggie with a well-intentioned naivete. Maggie is not scheming to absolve herself of latent guilt about entering a relationship with a married man, but rather she’s genuinely trying to create what she perceives as the best outcome for him. Even as things go awry, she never blames anyone, never holds grudges, and instead compensates by taking charge of other people’s responsibilities. As she sacrifices her own desires to help others, it becomes clear that Maggie’s problem isn’t that she is too controlling, it’s that she cares too much about others.

Her empathy, even at her own expense, carries the film. The other characters are each selfish in their own way, but Maggie never has any personal goals beyond a strong relationship with her daughter and every scene with her toddler further exemplifies her affection for those around her. Just as a mother restructures her life for the betterment her child, Maggie adapts herself to take care of her loved ones. She doesn’t always have the most logical methods, but her heart is in the right place as she suffuses the film with her blissfully unaware charm.

4/5 stars.