Mother's Day

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Garry Marshall/Starring: Jennifer Aniston, Julia Roberts, Kate Hudson, Jason Sudeikis, Timothy Olyphant, Britt Robertson, Hector Elizondo, Margo Martindale, Robert Pine, Aasif Mandvi and Ella Anderson

I know what you're probably thinking; why the hell see any Garry Marshall movie when his last two holiday movies; New Year's Eve and Valentine's Day sucked tragically? Truth be known, I've seen everything else at the theaters and I needed one last posting for the month. Better movies await me in May but since I spilled clams for this nonsense, I may as well say something about it. But what can one express about any Garry Marshall movie, particularly Mother's Day, except to say it belongs on cable TV, a trans-oceanic flight or someplace where it can help an insomniac or anesthetize a PTSD person?
At the screening I attended, a passel of geriatrics showed up; probably hoping to see something inoffensive, mildly amusing and profanity-free. The film meets most of those criteria (only a few swear words) but what I found really surprising is that Marshall's so-called comedy couldn't even make the old folks laugh (well, maybe they chuckled once).

Like the aforementioned movies in this trilogy (geez, I hope it's only a trilogy), Marshall crowds his story with multiple characters and multiple narrative threads though even a spider monkey in a coma could plot out every story-line knowing little about the characters. Plot-twists and unexpected story developments aren't Marshall's forte.

The characters are as follows:

Sandy (Jennifer Aniston) and Henry (Timothy Olyphant-wasted badly here) are an attractive forty-something couple in the throes of divorce. Sandy hopes of reconciliation are dashed when Henry surprises her with news of his elopement to a young, sexy twenty-something. The conflict here is Sandy's insecurity about becoming marginalized as her two sons find living with their dad and his new wife irresistible. Of course Henry's attractive new wife is another source of anxiety for her, as is being single.

Jesse (Kate Hudson) is married to an Indian/American named Russell (Aasif Mandvi); a fact her semi-estranged and slightly bigoted parents; Flo (Margo Martindale) and Earl (Robert Pine) are unaware of. Complicating the matter are Jesse and Russell's two children and her sister/next door neighbor Gabi (Sarah Chalke); who is hiding a secret of her own; namely her marriage to a woman. The fact that Flo and Earl have surprised Jesse, Russell and Gabi with a visit should be fertile territory for some laughs and comic situations. Never happens. Flo and Earl are one-dimensional, lazily-drawn southern stereotypes whose bigotry should be cause for drama rather than laughs.

Miranda (Julia Roberts) is the hostess of her own successful home-shopping channel. Single and childless, her connection to another character is revealed later in the film. There is very little else one need know about her.

Bradley (Jason Sudeikis; frittering time away here) is a widower whose late wife Dana (cameo by Jennifer Garner) died while serving as a Marine in Afghanistan (the fact that she was a soldier is a shameless ploy to tug on our heartstrings). His conflict is being a single parent and a father to two daughters; one of whom is a teenager who shows a burgeoning interest in boys, which brings Bradley untold anxiety.

Kristin (Britt Robertson) and Zack (Jake Whitehall); are a young, twenty-something couple with a kid. Though Kristin is happy with Zack, she has yet to commit to marriage, which he is only too happy to consummate. Zack, meanwhile, pursues a career as a stand-up comic (his stage routine is bland) when he isn't tending bar. The movie seems to forget at times these two characters exist; abandoning them for long stretches, only to return to them when we're long past caring about them. It is also revealed that Kristin was adopted and has an opportunity to meet her biological mother. The identity of said mother is withheld until later, which is supposed to be a shocking revelation.

Of course the various characters tend to intermingle at times; Sandy socializes with Kristin and Jesse at the park while the children frolic. Bradley runs into Sandy at a supermarket when a cashier runs a price-check on his daughter's tampons (this gag is old; it was funnier in Mr. Mom years ago, when it was original), which gives them the opportunity to meet-cute.

Having a crude understanding of the characters shouldn't keep you from knowing where the paved narrative trails will lead. For instance, which two single people will most likely end up together? Match a single mom with a motherless young woman. Which characters might they be? Will the bigoted hicks from the south become enlightened and accept their in-laws? If you don't where the movie will go, you've dozed off or just don't care enough to pay attention, or both.

Being a Garry Marshall film, one knows the story will have all the edges of a cotton ball. Marshall ensures no one will be offended or upset or have to think much. I guess we're supposed to just enjoy watching a parade of stars try to turn lint into gold thread. If the situations can't be original or inspired, why can't the humor be humorous?

No one seems to be able to rise above the mundane material. Hector Elizondo can be very amusing if given something good to work with but here he can only make do with crusts of bread. Timothy Olyphant seems all wrong for this kind of movie; he needs something darker and more dramatic to be truly affective. Though some cast members deserve better; others, like femme-hacks Kate Hudson, Jennifer Aniston and Julia Roberts, seem like ideal choices for this unfunny, crushingly dull, tenaciously empty-headed comedy/drama.

It's impossible to say anything good about the film, or at least something that isn't snarky so I'll leave it alone and let my mind purge the movie from my memory, which should take only...let's see...another second...there. Done.

This is Where I Leave You

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Shawn Levy/Starring: Justin Bateman, Jane Fonda, Rose Byrne, Tina Fey, Kathryn Hahn, Adam Driver, Connie Britton, Timothy Olyphant and Corey Stoll

I wonder if Hollywood will ever tire of comedy/dramas centered around families gathering at a funerals. I've seen three such films this year: the awful August: Osage County, the awfuler Lullaby (which employs a dying father as motivation for a family to gather) and now This is Where I Leave You, which is not the awfulest of the tribe but pretty damn close. All the films use the done-to-death funeral plot contrivance as a way for characters to air out grievances, address past wrongs and renew old familial feuds.

Shawn Levy's film, based on a novel by Jonathan Tropper, employs all the familiar aforementioned narrative traits. And like other movies of this breed, it becomes unbearably monotonous...and fast. That Levy assembled such a talented cast for this nonsense is quite impressive but it becomes less so when it becomes clear they have nothing to say, though they say it compulsively. Whenever anyone feels the need to verbalize, which is frequently, they spew stagy dialogue where everyone has a pithy rejoinder to a smart-ass or self-consciously inappropriate comment.

The story centers on Justin Bateman's character Judd Altman; a producer of a popular shock-jock radio show whose star Wade Beaufort (Dax Shepard) is the Platonic ideal of jerkitude. When Judd arrives home early one day with a birthday cake for his wife, he finds Wade in bed with his wife. If that isn't enough of a cross to bear, he also receives a phone call from his sister Wendy (Tina Fey), informing him of their father's death.

As Judd's family gathers for the funeral, we meet each member and become acquainted with their quirks, personal issues and internecine, sibling strife.

Hilary Altman (Jane Fonda), the family matriarch, has just lost her husband and though bereaved, wears mourning attire that highlights her newly augmented breasts. This becomes joke-fodder for the family, which left me feeling queasy. I don't know if it's a cultural norm with those of the Jewish persuasion, but we hear the Altman family make many explicit comments about sex, particularly when it involves siblings or the mother. I'm no prude, but I would think most families would find sharing comments about their mother's breasts and their brother's masturbatory habits taboo subjects. As Judd and his mother lay out a basement bed for his stay, Hilary's breasts dangle from her bathrobe. After urging his mother to cover up, she gently chides him for finding the sight of her breasts objectionable.

Judd's family and extended family arrive at Hilary's home with their respective life-baggage. Wendy's husband is emotionally unavailable and overly devoted to his career, brother Phillip (Adam Driver) is unemployed, unemployable and in therapy, and another brother Paul (Corey Stoll) is having trouble impregnating his wife while also struggling to maintain control of the family sporting goods business, of which the siblings all share part-ownership.

Phillip also has his therapist/girlfriend in tow; Tracy (Connie Britton), an older woman whose attraction to the younger man conflicts with her misgivings about his immaturity and penchant for seeing other women.

What one is wont to find in films of this variety are former classmates, crushes or friends the characters encounter. Judd runs into Penny (Rose Byrne), a former schoolmate for whom he develops a romantic interest. His volatile relationship with his wife of course complicates the attraction.
Wendy also has her romantic furnace stoked by family friend and sporting goods employee Horry Callen (Timothy Olyphant). Horry is afflicted with a mild mental impairment which stems from a head injury he received while in Wendy's company during an accident in the past. Like Judd's affection for Penny, Wendy's attraction to Horry fills an emotional void in her marriage and represents some unfinished, romantic business. Upon the first meetings between Judd and Penny and Wendy and Horry, we know intuitively--as if it were written in sky--where these sub-plot developments will lead.

It seems impossible to square Phillip's ability to charm women with his personality. How any woman could find such an a-hole supernova like Phillip attractive sorely tests our ability to suspend disbelief. Adam Driver seems to have no difficulty playing such obnoxious lunkheads, for only recently he played another in What If. I sincerely hope he strays from this pigeon-holing in the future otherwise he may not be able to play anything else convincingly.

It seems Jane Fonda can only appear in a film (these days, anyway) to show us how great she looks. Of course she can hardly be blamed for her character limitations when Hollywood has no idea how woman older than 40 behave and think. And they don't want to know. It is mind-blowing to consider Fonda is now 77 though her figure is that of someone less than half her age. If only someone could and would write her a character with some depth and dimension to challenge her beauty.

As the family occupies Hilary's house, animosities arise and secrets are unearthed. Most character's secrets seem to be revealed like clockwork; every 15 minutes or so, which are followed by blather like "why didn't you tell us/me?," and glib jokes and comments. When Hilary divulges her big secret near the end, it comes off more as a plot accessory rather than something plausibly organic. And what is typical of this genre is behavior that screams "though we're dysfunctional, aren't we so quirky and lovable?"

I saw the film with a capacity crowd, one that laughed uproariously at what I found to be somewhat clever but unfunny jokes or gags. Some aren't so clever. Paul's son's potty-training tendencies, which involve his hauling his potty around, are played for laughs but are just painfully cutesy.

A crowd's reaction is never a reliable gauge of a film's comedic or dramatic value. Though it is fun to watch a film with a large audience, collective laughter or applause can distort one's perception of the film. Over the din of laughter, I somehow managed to see through the formulae and the stock characterizations. I'm sure critics and other filmgoers will too.

I really wished I could have told the characters to shut up for five minutes. The noise generated by the family's incessant chatter made my head hurt. When smart-alecky jokes and jibes weren't being sprayed like buckshot, dime-store platitudes made reliable surrogates.

I may have to avoid films like This is Where I Leave You forever hereafter. But given my inability to ever learn a lesson, I could very well grouse next time too.