Review: "She's in Portland"

 

Wes is usually the guy who's the villain in movies, or at least the smarmy foil for the likable main character. 

He's a rich corporate A-type personality who's charismatic, glib, a handsome elbow-bender and ear-whisperer. He always seems to have a drink in his hand and a shit-eating grin on his face, and never appreciates what he has in life, always looking for something else to feed a need he himself can't explain.

So it's interesting to see him as one of the main characters, and actually written and played with nuance and subtlety. He's one half of the duo in "She's in Portland," the story of two college buddies who go on a road trip/love quest that ends up being much more about assessing where they are than where they're heading.

As played by Tommy Dewey, Wes is a young executive in some ambiguous high-finance enterprise who doesn't know how good he has it. He's one of Tom Wolfe's "Masters of the Universe" with a palatial house, a beautiful wife (Minka Kelly) and toddler daughter, and everything in his life is pointing to an upward arc. And yet, he's unhappy.

The exact source of his malaise is unclear. He doesn't like his omnipresent in-laws and his marriage has settled into that phase where you're more partners in a daycare business venture than ardent lovers. 

At a college reunion he runs into Molly, the girl his best friend, Luke (François Arnaud), was infatuated with back in school and gets an idea. He'll fly out to Los Angeles, where Luke is a struggling video editor, and they'll take a trip up the Pacific Coast Highway to see her in Portland, stopping along the way for a business deal he has in Frisco. 

Mostly, though, it's a chance to reconnect, bond over past experiences and raise questions they're afraid to answer on their own as they eyeball middle age on the near horizon.

This is a splendidly well-acted and observant film. Usually in low-budget indies like this you'll see a lot of amateurish acting in the smaller supporting roles, but here everyone we meet feels authentic and like they're exactly in the place they should be. Director Marc Carlini, who wrote the script with Patrick Alexander, shows a sure hand despite it being his first stint in the big chair of a feature film.

This is the sort of movie where not a lot "happens" but everything that does seems pivotal and life-changing. Wes, who has stashed a gob of cash in an envelope, buys a vintage Ford Bronco just for this trip, and they make all sorts of side stops -- some of them planned, some of them not. 

They visit their old campus at UC Santa and play the role of aging Lotharios partying it up and hitting on girls. Curiously, although Wes is a natural flirt and Luke is more the quiet brooding type, he sticks to his marriage vows while Luke plays around as opportunities present.

Along the way they encounter three pairs of women: one much younger (Medalion Rahimi and Olivia Crocicchia), one a bit older (Joelle Carter and Lola Glaudini) and the last one Luke calls "not a detour, just a wrong turn." Each time the men try to impress and end up being the ones who receive an education, for good or for bad.

Wes and Luke's relationship is one of give and take, trade-offs and compromises. Each to an extent envies the other, while also resenting them a bit. Wes wants Luke's freedom and creativity and Luke covets Wes' material success and stability.

Wes has come to Cali on a quest to "save" his friend, but it soon becomes clear he's the one who needs help. He's not really capable of asking for it, so he disguises his vulnerability in a manipulative sort of beneficence. 

The production values are very good, from the lush cinematography by Devin Whetstone to the musical score by the Mondo Boys, an empathetic mix of classic melodies and atonal moods.

"She's in Portland" is the sort of ride you maybe don't look forward to, but once you're on the road you don't have anywhere else you want to be.

 

Video review: "Men, Women & Children"

Jason Reitman’s “Men, Women & Children” is a noble effort but not a successful film. It’s worth a look on video, because there are a few moments of quiet power in its ensemble cast and intersecting storylines. Other sections, though, wander.

The topic is sex, specifically how modern technology and digital interfaces reverberate in how we relate to each other romantically. The drama serves as a cautionary tale about letting contrived expectations interfere with the actual flesh-and-blood human beings we’re affectionate with.

The focus is mostly on teenagers, though adults figure into the mix, too. Kaitlyn Dever and Ansel Elgort play decent but confused kids who embark on a tender romance. Meanwhile, though, her mother (Jennifer Garner) is tracking her every movement and text message, terrified of what’s roaming out there in the digital ether.

Other stories include a mom (Judy Greer) who is distributing risqué photos of her own daughter on the web to paying customers, and a middle-aged couple (Adam Sandler and Rosemarie DeWitt) who are bored with each other but find excitement in random hook-ups with strangers they meet online.

Even more unsettling is the tale of a young girl who struggles with her body and her virginity, both of which she views as a burden rather than things to be celebrated. So she punishes herself by starving herself, and receives encouragement (!) from like-minded young women online.

There’s a lot to admire about this film, as it dares to ask uncomfortable questions about how we live and love today. The movie ultimately loses its way, but the journey is worthwhile.

Movie:

Review: "Men, Women & Children"

"Men, Women & Children" is an audacious, ambitious film that dives into the deep end of cinematic contemplation and, eventually, disappears beneath the ripples it commenced. But not before a heroic effort.

It's not so much a coherent story as a mirror turned around at the audience, daring them to consider how we live today, how the digital age has bent and distorted the way we approach love and sex -- especially teenagers, who have never lived in a world without instant communication and universal access to visual gratification.

This is one of the rare movies I wish was longer; its sprawling narrative and heady themes needed more space to give themselves a full workout. Director and co-writer Jason Reitman ("Up in the Air") ends up drowning in the same trouble that afflicts most films with large ensemble casts and intersecting storylines: it moves on too quickly when it should linger, and tarries when it has outlasted its purpose.

If the notion of underage kids communicating graphically about what they'd like to do to each other is shocking to you, then you might sympathize with Patricia, played by Jennifer Garner. She monitors every step her daughter Brandy (Kaitlyn Dever) takes online -- she reads the girl's text messages before she sees them, deleting if she finds them objectionable. Using tracking software on Brandy's phone, mom knows her daughter's whereabouts 24/7. Indeed, Patricia, with her pained expression and wounded eyes, doesn't seem to have a job or a personal life, only a cause: to keep kids safe online -- even if it means stripping them of any semblance of freedom.

Needless to say, Brandy is driven to seek release, and finds it with Tim (Ansel Elgort), another wayward soul. He's the star running back of the football team, but quits mid-season so he can have more time to play Guild Wars, an online role-playing video game. He's bereft by a personal loss, and in Brandy sees a companion with whom to drift. They plug the rents in each other's fragile psyches, forming a relationship that is -- by the standards of other couplings in the film -- remarkably healthy and not dictated by sex.

On the other extreme is Hannah (Olivia Crocicchia), a 16-year-old who flaunts her sexuality instinctively, aided by a mother (Judy Greer) who enables her Hollywood ambitions. They take risqué, but not obscene, photos of her and post them on a website -- including private shoots for paying customers. What's scarier than the idea of a mother basically pimping out her daughter is that neither seems to fully grasp the impact of what they're doing.

Most affecting is the story of Allison (Elena Kampouris), a painfully thin girl wracked by twin, intermarried crucibles: anorexia and being the last female (she thinks) in her social circle who hasn't "hooked up." She visits websites where beauty-obsessed girls provide emotional support to willingly starve themselves -- Google it; they're real -- and fantasizes about the football player she's known since seventh grade. Her body is an unruly burden to her, both her corporeal heft (any) and her wretched virginity.

The stories of some of these kids' parents also float in and out of the foreground. Most notable, though not as interesting as it sounds, is Adam Sandler and Rosemarie DeWitt as a married couple whose sex life has turned cold, and they each use the Web to fulfill their needs with strangers.

It's an interesting idea, especially in that it's she craving sexual adventure while he mostly pines for simple intimacy, but their path seems more pathetic than dangerous. Meanwhile, their 15-year-old son has grown impotent after being burned out on hardcore porn.

"Men, Women & Children" gives us an almost entirely bleak view of lust in the 21st century, but that's not its problem. By focusing on too many characters and tales, the film's dark, brave message loses signal strength. There either needed to be a lot more of this movie, or a lot less.