Review: Up in the Air
Jason Reitman's finally making movies for adults. His first directed feature, Thank You for Smoking, had the pow-zam-bop energy of a comic book. He moved from that cheeky and deliciously adolescent film to Juno, an ode to hipsters, and a cult hit before it left the editing room. Thankfully, he achieves a more substantial follow-up than screenwriter Diablo Cody did (Jennifer's Body).
Now, before I talk about Up in the Air, which comes out on Christmas, I'd like to thank loyal Twitter followers for access to a test screening this past Sunday. We were almost ousted for counterfeit passes, but Twitter saved the day. Funny that the film finds technology distancing, when it brought us into the theater.
Jason Reitman's finally making movies for adults. His first directed feature, Thank You for Smoking, had the pow-zam-bop energy of a comic book. He moved from that cheeky and deliciously adolescent film to Juno, an ode to hipsters, and a cult hit before it left the editing room. Thankfully, he achieves a more substantial follow-up than screenwriter Diablo Cody did (Jennifer's Body).
Now, before I talk about Up in the Air, which comes out on Christmas, I'd like to thank loyal Twitter followers for access to a test screening this past Sunday. We were almost ousted for counterfeit passes, but Twitter saved the day. Funny that the film finds technology distancing, when it brought us into the theater.Up in the Air is not coated in the glossy sheen that energized Thank You for Smoking. George Clooney's management consultant, sent across the country to fire other companies' employees, connects with the men and women he's just unemployed. Why not set this mundane office existence aside and search for your passion? he tells them. He's just like Aaron Eckhart's Nick Naylor: he doesn't mean it. But there's less artifice to his journey because Clooney's weary traveler can't control the direction he takes.
Reitman's script, now aiming for adult audiences, strays in the second half down familiar territory. Some of the punches he pulls, without the zing of his other films to steady him, are expected and unsurprising. A heart-warming montage revisiting childhood memories; surprises lurking behind closed doors. To its credit, the film stays aware of the economic climate and ends on a dimly hopeful ambivalence. Recently laid-off residents of Chicago lend verisimilitude to the characters who are fired.
Reitman plays the topical card well; it's nice to see awards buzz around a film made for compassion rather than prestige. He gathers a cohesive ensemble: Clooney, Vera Farmiga, Jason Bateman (deliciously wry), Zach Galifianakis, and Amy Morton (who was vigorous on Broadway in August: Osage County) among them. J.K. Simmons's cameo, as a recently fired employee who wants more out of life, is the most poignant moment. Anna Kendrick's work as the firing company's protege--a rigid, PhD-wielding automaton--is clever. She keeps her guard up, exposing cracks in the veneer and a growing sensitivity without blossoming into a pageant model.
Reitman's script and direction are best when they let the humor and pain coexist: a screwball comedy set in modern times. It's reassuring to see a movie reach modest heights rather than serve up manufactured feelings that taste of airline food.
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