Brooks' Brother

Year: 2018

Director: John Francis Daley & Jonathan Goldstein

Cast: Jason Bateman, Rachel McAdams, Kyle Chandler 

Run Time: 1 hour 40 minutes

MPAA Rating: R

It's not groundbreaking to point out that there has been a dearth of imagination when it comes to Hollywood comedies, but seriously. Can we quit it with these titles? Girls Trip. Rough Night. Bridesmaids. Spy. Sisters. Dirty Grandpa. Good or bad, we're not doing these movies any favors with these relentlessly descriptive, boring titles. And let's not forget that on the slate for 2018 are Book Club, Eigth Grade, and Night School. Game Night is saddled with another one of these blah, nothing monikers, and that's no way to treat the best comedy of the first quarter of 2018.

Not that there was much competition for that, but still!

In Game Night, a  group of adult friends have a regular game night every week. So far, so simple. These friends are led by a competitive couple - Max (Jason Bateman) and Annie (Rachel McAdams) - who are having trouble conceiving due to Max's high stress levels. Filling out the ranks are high school sweethearts Kevin (Lamorne Morris) and Michelle (Kylie Bunbury) and empty-headed hunk Ryan (Billy Magnussen). Former game night attendee and monotonously enthusiastic Gary (Jesse Plemons) still lives next door, but he's not invited anymore since his wife left him and he has sunk into a life of solitude, weirdness, and creepy lurking. To complete the pairs, Ryan usually has a rotating coterie of identical bimbos, but this week he brought in a ringer: his intelligent and age-appropriate Irish coworker Sarah (Sharon Horgan).

And oh, what a week to decide to come! It turns out Game Night has a lot in common with that other boringly titled film: The Game. Max's show-off older brother Brooks (Kyle Chandler) is in town and has arranged an interactive role-playing game where one of their number will be kidnapped and the others will have to follow the clues to find him. Unfortunately, Brooks is abducted by actual thugs and the line between game and reality swiftly blurs as they rush to rescue him from what may or may not be an elaborate ruse.

They don't take it as seriously as they maybe should, is the point.

Now, I don't want you to get the wrong impression. I did really like Game Night, but it's not quite the balm to save the bloated corpse that is modern comedy. That's a lot to ask of a movie anyway, but it's far from special enough to have any kind of lasting impact on the culture. It's just a funny movie that'll go in one ear and out the other, causing no harm as it passes through.

But, oh is it funny. This is partially thanks to a tight script that's not so reliant on improv and employs judicious use of callbacks to bring everything full circle into a satisfying whole. But it's mostly thanks to the freaking cast, which is a who's who of comic actors we love and comic actors we have done a disservice to by not having loved for many years already. 

Jason Bateman is the de facto lead here, and he does find a way to keep his normal schtick fresh by honing his timing to a stilleto-sharp point, but as the resident straight man he's easily upstaged by a collection of truly tremendous performances. Rachel McAdams (who has always been great, but who I never particularly recognized for comedy) is a particular standout, for her off-kilter line readings that allow even her most flatly written lines to leap off the screen with surprising energy. 

But honestly, it's impossible to look away from the people on the fringes of this cast. The first is Billy Magnussen, who has certainly learned how to use his impossibly sculpted body as a punchline in his previous roles in Into the Woods and Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, and somehow takes a one-note "dumb hot guy" role and twists it into something knowing and unique. He finds ways to give unexpected outlets to his dumbness, both physically and vocally. 

If someone could slip my number into the next script he reads, I'd appreciate it.

Lamorne Morris also accomplishes the elevation of what should be a grating stock character, giving his repetitive jokes a rhythm so impeccably tight it always catches you off guard. And then - finally! -there's Jesse Plemons, who should be waited on hand and foot by the Hollywood elite for how much talent he's given the world in his young life. The character he has created here is a work of art, an insurmountable force of gravity that sucks you into its awe-inspiring weirdness. It's so unique that it's very difficult to describe. I shan't exert myself, but suffice it to say that his strained monotone is both keenly disturbing and guffaw-inducing.

But enough about that. Any comedy can assemble a great cast, even if this one is especially, unexpectedly strong. Game Night actually shines as a piece of filmmaking, far more often than is common in this day and age. Although its commitment to its stylistic approach wavers toward the second act, this movie has an exciting aesthetic that mimics board games in a variety of satisfying visual ways, using kinetic editing and what I assume are CGI-altered aerial shots to provide an almost dreamlike atmosphere when transitioning from scene to scene.

And the more that's said about Cliff Martinez's darkly synth-fueled score, the better. I wouldn't have pegged the composer of Drive to be the perfect match for this goofy R-rated comedy, but that's why they don't pay me the big bucks. His music really highlights the surreality of the premise, providing the perfect airy counterpoint to this movie's blend of high concept comedy with jarring jolts of reality.

Game Night does exactly what it needs to do, and it does it with some sense of panache. That's all we really need, isn't it? It won't melt your face off with pure comedy, but it sure is an irresistibly affable film to spend 100 minutes with, and you won't catch me complaining about that for one second.

TL;DR: Game Night is a strong comedy, supported by excellent filmmaking.

Rating: 8/10

Word Count: 1041

Turn Down For What?

Year: 2016

Director: Josh Gordon & Will Speck

Cast: Jason Bateman, Olivia Munn, T.J. Miller 

Run Time: 1 hour 45 minutes

MPAA Rating: R

A great cast doesn’t always equal a good movie. If it did, Valentine’s Day would have swept the Oscars. But damn, Office Christmas Party has a great cast. Jason Bateman is the perfect asshole straight man, T. J. Miller is a standout member of the preternaturally superb Silicon Valley ensemble, Jennifer Aniston is so charming she survived The Bounty Hunter and We’re the Millers, Kate McKinnon has been the shining light of comedy this year, Jillian Bell has been hilarious I everything I’ve ever seen her in, Vanessa Bayer has swiftly proven herself as one of the strongest members of the new SNL cast, and Randall Park has been my underrated idol for forever.

Office Christmas Party might be the exception to that rule. It’s literally the most basic, featureless R-rated comedy ever created (c’mon, it might as well be called Office Party Script Title TBD), but it survives on the strength of its excellent ensemble just being themselves and working their established personalities to the hilt.

Thanks again, Mr. Park.

So, here’s the plot, as if this movie needed one. And it’s quite needlessly complicated, at that. Clay Vanstone (T. J. Miller) is the head of the Chicago branch of Zenotech, a tech company that does yadda yadda synergy. His jealous sister Carol (Jennifer Aniston) has become interim CEO after their dad died and is threating to close the branch unless they can close a major deal with Walter Davis (Courtney B. Vance). She’s slashed their budget and forbids them from wasting money by having their annual Christmas party. But Davis wants them to prove their company culture is vibrant and exciting, so Clay and his freshly divorced right-hand man Josh (Jason Bateman) plan a party behind Carol’s back to woo him.

Things get out of hand as the party grows out of control and various office personalities clash, including the straight-out-of-the-90’s hacker tech queen Tracey (Olivia Munn) – who Josh has the hots for – unlucky-in-love secretary Allison (Vanessa Bayer), and buttoned-up HR weirdo Mary (Kate McKinnon).

Thanks again, Ms. McKinnon.

It’s not fun to watch other people party. It’s just not. That’s why I turn off New Year’s Rockin’ Eve after the ball drops. Watching Fergie and anonymous party people dance around is excruciatingly dull. Office Christmas Party attempts to do something a little different, pulling comedy from the image of more normal, office-esque people doing the same things, but come the f*ck on. Jennifer Aniston is one of the leads. Having one or two frumpy extras with Junie B. Jones bangs doesn’t count as “realism.”

Anyway, I digress. Watching people debauch is boring, which is presumably why they injected so much plot into the godforsaken thing. Unfortunately they overfilled the thin little wisp of a movie and that plot oozes through every crack, threatening to drown the whole thing in sloppy sentimentality. Frankly, it’s idiotic, and the plot moments are played too earnest for them to even pretend they were being intentionally absurd when the going gets hyperbolic. 

Bateman and Munn’s improbable romance is bad enough (especially during a period of anti-drama that requires everyone to act like squealing infants), but when the theme of taking risks and making innovations blossoms into Star Trek technobabble about making the Internet out of electricity or something, it goes too far. If they played it like an homage to 80’s films that treated computers like they were omnipotent sorcerers, it might be amusing, but it’s just plain stupid, as if the business model it’s shackled to (“We’ll give people free Internet and become billionaires somehow! Science!”).

Damn, is that a difficult plot to sift through. It’s a sticky sweet mess that gums up everything it touches. It’s a whirl of inscrutable motivations and trite yet labored setups that are so howlingly forced they distract from the comedy at hand. And yet… that comedy’s still pretty good. 

Thanks again, improv.

Nobody is turning in bad work in this film, all the way down to the smallest bit parts (an Uber driver played by Fortune Feimster is downright hilarious. Even though Kate McKinnon is only paying a one-note sketch character, she pulls from her seemingly endless reserves of offbeat and captivating line readings, Jennifer Aniston proves that she can hold her own against more out-there comedians, and Jillian Bell especially creates a wonderfully unpredictable vibe with her standout performance.

This is a fun cast, and it’s a delight just to watch them mess around with each other. Luckily, that is one thing this movie has to offer in spades. As much as it doesn’t resemble an actual feature film in any way, it actually does resemble an office party. The plot mills about, letting you hang out and celebrate the holidays with some friends, and that’s really not the worst thing a movie can offer.

TL;DR: Office Christmas Party is a passable R-rated comedy thanks to its cast and that alone.

Rating: 6/10

Word Count: 846

Born To Be Wild

Year: 2016

Director: Byron Howard, Rich Moore, & Jared Bush

Cast: Ginnifer Goodwin, Jason Bateman, Idris Elba 

Run Time: 1 hour 48 minutes

MPAA Rating: PG

Friends, furries, countrymen… Lend me your ears. On my third anniversary with a certain Disneyphile, I had occasion to attend the opening night of Zootopia, the newest film from Disney Animation’s CGI wing (which, let’s face it, is not as good, but Wreck-It Ralph, Tangled, and Big Hero 6 soften the blow). Frankly, I was not sold by the deeply unimpressive trailer, which frontloaded a sloth gag as old and creaky as Gandalf’s knees, and the improbably high Rotten Tomatoes score only served to make me more suspicious. However, I am pleased to announce that I come bearing good news! But first… the plot.

AKA: The part in between the constantly replaying Shakira song.

In Zootopia, animals have evolved past their savage, wild ways. Predators and prey now live in harmony, doing all the fun things that people do, like taxes and Tinder and eating ice cream, only furrier. Judy Hopps (Ginnifer Goodwin) is a small town bunny with a dream, to serve and protect the citizens of the bustling metropolis Zootopia as a member of the police force. The first bunny on the force, she doesn’t fit in with her burly, aggressive coworkers and gets stuck on parking detail. Overeager to pursue justice rather than follow orders, she ends up on the bad side of Chief Bogo (Idris Elba), who gives her 48 hours to solve a missing mammal case, or else her badge is revoked.

Her unlikely partner in this endeavor is the con-man (or rather, con-fox) Nick Wilde (Jason Bateman), at which point Zootopia promptly becomes, against all odds, a buddy cop movie. In the process of their investigation, Nick and Judy discover a vast and dangerous conspiracy that will challenge everything they know about the world… and themselves.

AKA: The people who aren’t Shakira.

If you have seen any amount of promo for Zootopia, you might assume (reasonably) that the film is some sort of animated sloth delivery system, but you would be wrong. As hard as they’re pushing those side characters to sell sloth plushies, the bulk of the movie is blissfully free of their musty antics (why they’ve zeroed in on the sloth when a blissed-out yak and a heart-meltingly adorable fennec fox have more, and stronger, screen time is beyond me, but I guess I should pull an Elsa and let it go). What the trailers completely fail to communicate is that Zootopia is an ingeniously crafted modern fable that takes the form of a hardboiled mystery procedural, something I feel was pretty vital to mention. But alas, this is not a review of the Disney publicity department, so let’s move on.

You guys know I love me some world-building, and Zootopia has it in spades. There is one intractable conceptual problem, in that the anthropomorphic citizenry frequently refer to themselves being animals to excuse certain behaviors. However, in a world with no humans, the concept of an “animal” as a wild or uncivilized creature couldn’t exist. That is, unless Zootopia takes place on a post-human extinction Earth, Planet of the Apes style. But I digress. Wildly.

When you’re presented with the concept “animals doing people things,” it’s pretty easy to come up with a half dozen gags off the top of your head. It’s a gimme concept. However, I’m delighted to report that the filmmakers were far from lazy when constructing their animal utopia. In addition to a series of clever but typical gags about animal behavior (wolves love to howl, lemmings have a tendency to be followers, goddamn sloths are slow), Zootopia really digs into a fresh concept: What are the implications of a society composed of hundreds of different animal species? What habitats would they need? What municipal structures would be necessary to foster inter-species cooperation?

Zootopia has its most fun when it is exploring these concepts through delirious visual gags and gorgeous city structures, fostered by the feverishly creative, lush environs courtesy of production designers David Goetz and Dan Cooper. It’s a well thought-out universe, the result of meticulous study, and an excellent breeding ground for the film’s Big Ol’ Message. Zootopia has a strong moral, an appropriately modern treatise/racial allegory about diversity, cooperation, and prejudice that would be obnoxiously preachy in any other movie. However, it is so organically developed through characters and their environments that it becomes even stronger for it, as intrinsic and natural to the film’s universe as fluffy bunnies.

It’s also, like, and important message or whatever, but world-building, you guys.

It really is a fun time at the movies, consistently enjoyable for children and adults alike. I always respect family entertainment that has a brain in its head, and Zootopia is a very sharp, deliberate film with a real sense of purpose. It’s a creative mix of seemingly disparate genres, a wacky yet sometimes dangerous romp with actual stakes, and it teaches you not to be so rude to parking enforcers. It’s a win-win-win!

That said, the tsunami of critical adoration this film ha been receiving is bonkers. It’s a solid, sweet family film, but not even The Shawshank Redemption has a 99 percent on Rotten Tomatoes. For all its genuine quality, it’s still a new age animated movie, with all the inane pop culture references and slyly inappropriate “for the parents” jokes that that entails. These moments are of a slightly higher caliber than your typical kids fodder, but Zootopia isn’t free from those pitfalls.

I would give the film an unqualified recommendation to anybody with two eyes and heart, but it isn’t the second coming of Pixar. Not that a movie need to be that in order to be pretty damn remarkable.

TL;DR: Zootopia is a fun, smart exercise in children's filmmaking with a solid, ironically human message.

Rating: 7/10

Word Count: 985

Simon Says

Year: 2015
Director: Joel Edgerton
Cast: Jason Bateman, Rebecca Hall, Joel Edgerton
Run Time: 1 hour 48 minutes
MPAA Rating: R

Overhype is a very dangerous thing. It has led to generations of Citizen Kane haters and more incensed comments on Kubrick message boards than there are frames in his films. Overhype can poison the mind and disillusion the soul, and I urge you not to let its sickly sway take hold of you. I would also like to politely point out that, per the Rotten Tomatoes algorithm, 100 reviewers giving a movie three stars out of five is enough to earn it a 93 percent rating. Sometimes a number is only math.

Apropos of nothing, I assure you, I have recently screened The Gift, the new stalker thriller out of the Blumhouse stable. The fewer trailers you’ve seen for it, the better. The fewer Blumhouse movies you’ve seen going into it, the better. The less you expect from it, the more it has to offer.

Like a Secret Santa exchange. Who knows, a $5 TJ Maxx gift card might be useful in an emergency.

The story of The Gift is a relatively simple one. Chicago couple Robyn (Rebecca Hall) and Simon (Jason Bateman) have recently moved to California, close to Simon’s hometown, because he got a new job at a big Corporation doing Business. If he does enough Meetings, he can win enough Handshakes to advance to the next level and earn a Promotion. Meanwhile Robyn is left at home with the frustratingly fruitless and intangible job of trying to start a family. When they run into Gordo (director Joel Edgerton), an old classmate of Simon’s, she invites him over despite her husband’s protestations, thus beginning a brief and uncomfortable friendship.

Over the course of several weeks, Gordo bestows the couple with increasingly expensive gifts, perturbing Simon to the point that he politely suggests that they maybe never see each other again. Afterward, they begin to experience strange phenomena that might be unrelated but may just be Gordo exacting his revenge. During the course of this stress, Robyn discovers that there may be more to her husband than meets the eyes and her entire life is cast into doubt as she delves into the murky past between Gordo and Simon.

It’s more than just embarrassing yearbook photos.

Really, The Gift is typical Blumhouse fare through and through, no matter how much they try to demurely hide behind their “BH” label. There’s not a lot to differentiate the film from the nuts and bots of films like The Purge or Mockingbird, stripped of their horror trappings and sold for scrap. The only true break from the formula is that – aside from two dastardly tawdry bargain bin jump scares – the film focuses exclusively on interpersonal drama rather than thrills and spills.

This is where the film truly garners its reputation of “really not as bad as I thought it was going to be.” Jason Bateman has made a habit of playing barely concealed douchebags, and that sharply honed skill comes in handy when it comes time to cast doubt on his intentions. And he’s flanked by a pair of equally committed performers who provide an emotional human core beneath the slickly impersonal online real estate tour cinematography (which only once arranges a truly striking image – Bateman bathed in the glow of his car’s brake light). And as the plot unspools, a shocking surfeit of character details surface on both sides of the table, giving the audience quite a bit to chew on thematically. It’s a good thing, too, because the thriller elements of The Gift are about as dry and malnutrituous as a mouthful of sawdust.

It’s perhaps not a resounding success, considering that The Gift is first and foremost geared toward psycho thriller fanatics. Bu the sad fact is that the film’s most slack and ill-used elements are also its raison-d'être. Gordo’s stalking is maddeningly ill-paced, hardly escalating above a whisper before it’s cut off at the knees in favor of an abortive subplot that the movie pursues with cheery abandon, before chucking all its plot threads in a blender and wrapping up using the precise wrong device as its emotional lynchpin. Words can’t express how ineffably miscalculated this film’s third act is, and how resolutely it bungles the pristinely entertaining dramatic beats that drive the story up to that point.

It’s like a high school hookup: An hour of intense anticipation followed by a sloppy flurry of motion, a sudden unexpected mess, and embarrassed disappointment. And suddenly you’re out ten bucks on a date you’ll never get back.

The Gift has enough going on in its surprisingly humanistic screenplay to overcome its more egregious flaws and it’s a suitably effective debut for Edgerton, but let’s hope that his next film is all drama, no thrills. On purpose, I mean. If you go into The Gift with an open heart and mind there’s certainly plenty to enjoy, but don’t expect the second coming of Edward Cullen (cinema’s most accomplished stalker). It’s an easy breezy popcorn drama with the best Jason Bateman performance in several years, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

TL;DR: The Gift is a half-decent drama but an abortive thriller.

Rating: 7/10

Should I Spend Money On This? Don't feel obligated. They already made more than their budget back.

Word Count: 894

I See You Shiva With Anticipation

Year: 2014

Director: Shawn Levy

Cast: Jason Bateman, Tina Fey, Jane Fonda

Run Time: 1 hour 43 minutes

MPAA Rating: R

There are three types of indie movies. 1) Films which showcase a brilliant artist who is given short shrift in Hollywood for no good reason. 2) Films which showcase a dreadful artist who is given short shrift in Hollywood for a very good reason. And 3) Films that attempt to be indie and meaningful because they know that's cool now, but they're directed by the guy who did Real Steel and Cheaper by the Dozen.

Guess which category This Is Where I Leave You falls under. 

Now I'm not saying that director Shawn Levy is a terrible artist. No way no how. I'm just saying that his pedigree (which also includes The Internship and all three Night at the Museum films) in no way prepares him to treat this film's material with the delicacy that its demanding tonal shifts deserve. It would take a lot of skill to finesse the low key dramedy of Jonathan Tropper's source novel into even mildly diverting cinema, and Levy just doesn't have the practice.

Well, I guess Ben Stiller and his museum buddies are KIND of like a dysfunctional Jewish family.

This Is Where I Leave You tells the story of the Altman family, which is brought together by the death of a patriarch. His last wish was his wife and kids to sit shiva, forcing them to remain in proximity with one another for the first time in years. 

The most important member of this family (in terms of screen time, not interest) is Judd Altman (Jason Bateman), a bitter man who just discovered that his wife was cheating on him with his boss. This causes some super indie problems for him, because he has exactly followed his plan for how his life should be, but it isn't bringing him happiness. A chance encounter with Penny (Rose Byrne), an old flame, reminds him that sometimes love can be messy, especially if you're in a movie that premiered at TIFF.

The rest of his family includes Wendy (Tina Fey), who has a kid and is married to a neglectful businessman despite the fact that she's in love with a brain-damaged neighbor inexplicably named Horry (Timothy Olyphant); Paul (Corey Stoll), who is a straight-laced square failing to have a baby with his wife Annie (Kathryn Hahn); Phillip (Adam Driver), who is the baby of the family, a hopeless lothario, and a perennial screwup who somehow convinced a beautiful psychiatrist named Tracy (Connie Britton) to fall in love with him; and their mother Hillary (Jane Fonda), who just got a boob job. 

Yay! Isn't it gross when old people show interest in sex? Judd certainly seems to think so, according to the immense amount of screentime spent on him staring at his mother's chest in revulsion.

Them old broads be crazy, amirite?

It's certainly exciting to see a depiction of the interactions and customs of a Jewish family in the modern, secular world. But it would be more exciting if most of them were actually Jewish or gave half a flying Pop-Tart about the implications of their minority faith on the subtext. 

There's a smattering of funny, charming moments, largely thanks to the abundance of funny, charming actors. And the drama is handily handled (to coin a nifty phrase), especially by Fey and Bateman, who have the heaviest of burdens on their shoulders. But despite the best efforts of the cast (all of whom are genuinely enjoyable save for Driver's perplexing emphasis on shouting his lines and Byrne's hard swallowing of her natural Australian accent), This Is Where I Leave You falls flat as a pancake.

In all fairness to Rose Byrne, who I love, her character is so indie vanilla that I can't imagine what else there would be to do other than babble lines in half-cocked American. You gotta make things enjoyable for yourself.

The biggest problem with the film is that it has no idea what to do with its prodigious cast. The performers are all proven talents with mid-level star power just dripping off of them, but the plot only has the attention span for at most three protagonists. The sprawling number of celebrities in the background steals focus from the characters that we're supposed to care about, and the imbalanced plot threads prevent us from caring about them in the first place. It's a lose-lose situation. 

Basically, this film is what would have happened if, instead of Kristen Wiig and Bill Hader, The Skeleton Twins had cast the entire line-up of Saturday Night Live. There are so many balls being juggled here that some of them just roll away without anybody noticing.

Characters twirl in and out of existence, vanishing from this dimension until they're needed for the next forced plot point. Several of the siblings' significant others are banished to purgatory early on, only to be trotted out on special occasions. And I'm pretty sure Connie Britton's character died of neglect, locked in an upstairs closet. The only consistent presence is a potty-training toddler, who is incidentally the most compelling of the bunch.

This isn't even a third of the cast of this tiny tiny film.

Overall, This Is Where I Leave You is just too generic to be worth the hassle. There's endless heavy-handed exposition laced conversations, routine characterizations, and nothing new to say about the state of the American family. Been there, done that. There is one great sequence where the siblings repeat a series of cordial platitudes to guests at a funeral that highlights the repetitive dullness and constant lying that these types of polite gatherings require.

But beyond that, the film doesn't attempt to do anything more than exist as a piece of disposable cinema. Miss this film, and don't bother calling it on its birthday.

TL;DR: This Is Where I Leave You is dull and generic, but has a decently sized slate of charming actors.

Rating: 4/10

Word Count: 1005

Spellbound

Year: 2014

Director: Jason Bateman

Cast: Jason Bateman, Kathryn Hahn, Rohan Chand

Run Time: 1 hour 29 minutes

MPAA Rating: R

M A V E R I C K. Maverick. (noun) Definition: an unorthodox or independent-minded person. Used in a Paragraph: I doubt Jason Bateman ever intended to be a maverick when he directed and starred in a movie simultaneously. He's not a Tommy Wiseau, a disillusioned and quietly insane auteur who was forced to fund The Room himself because nobody else would. And he's no Lake Bell, who gave herself a starring turn in In A World... because Hollywood was incapable of appreciating her ample talents. No, his is the classic story. An actor who longed to direct but couldn't find someone to do it on, so he filled the role himself.

P R O W E S S. Prowess. (noun) Definition: skill or expertise in a particular activity or field. Used in a Paragraph: It's difficult to say whether this was the best choice for Bad Words or not. We all know that Jason Bateman is a capable comic actor (If you disagree, please watch Arrested Development and don't come back until you've finished. I'll keep an eye on the clock.), but his directing prowess remains unproven. Though there are people in this world who have accomplished great feats directing themselves, Bad Words has the inescapable aura of one man spread too thin, halfheartedly tacked onto a relatively solid screenplay.

G, J-son. R U O K?

H E D O N I S T I C. Hedonistic. (adjective) Definition: engaged in the pursuit of pleasure; sensually self-indulgent. Used in a Paragraph: The film revolves around one Guy Trilby (Jason Bateman), a hedonistic 40-year-old loser who enters a spelling bee through a legal loophole in order to pursue a personal vendetta. Accompanying him is Jenny (Kathryn Hahn), an intrepid reporter who is supporting his scheme in order to eke a viable story out of him. But Guy delights in alternately tormenting and banging her rather than giving her answers.

L O G O R R H E A. Logorrhea. (noun) Definition: The tendency of talking a great deal. Used in a Paragraph: When Guy meets an extroverted young man named Chaitanya (Rohan Chand) with a severe case of logorrhea, an unlikely friendship begins as the kid slowly begins to crack his tough shell. It's all pretty standard indie film blather, really. Guy slowly begins to change except that he really doesn't. Secrets are revealed but they're not that exciting. And an annoyingly vague and unnecessary narration slobbers over the entire thing.

It's telling when somebody this chipper ISN'T the most annoying part of a movie.

A R C H E T Y P E. Archetype. (noun) Definition: a very typical example of a certain person or thing; a recurrent symbol or motif in literature, art, or mythology. Used in a Paragraph: Perhaps the biggest problem for Bad Words is its utter reliance on Bateman as a bitter "antihero." We're supposed to root for him even though he's doing awful things, which is an interesting enough idea to base a film on, but is sorely fumbled here. The antihero archetype lifted into the stratosphere by TV shows like Dexter or Breaking Bad has been highly popular in this decade, but films like this and its closest filmic analogue - 2011's Young Adult - are the first omens of its inevitable decline.

I N S O U C I A N T. Insouciant. (adjective) Definition: showing a casual lack of concern; indifferent. Used in a Paragraph: The bulk of the comedy is derived from this insouciant antihero being homophobic, racist, rapey, criminal, and just about every kind of terrible thing that could conceivably have a Tumblr blog written about it. This formula has worked before, but when you center it around Jason Bateman's competent but uninspiring performance and throw in a crop of spelling bee contestants as just about the only side characters (Allison Janney has a forgettable turn as an administrator and several parents are involved, but other than that there's not many additional bodies), Bad Words turns into naught but a one man show about terrorizing children for an hour and a half. As an audience member this is positively battering.

R A N C O R O U S. Rancorous. (adjective) Definition: characterized by bitterness or resentment. Used in a Paragraph: All in all, thanks to Bateman's being distracted by his directing duties, his failure to bring a spark of humanity to his rancorous character mires the entire film in unpleasantness. Luckily Kathryn Hahn picks up some of the slack, showing off her chops as what is by far the film's brightest comic light. She really seizes her role, giving her character edges but sanding them off in all the right places - reaching the exact tone the rest of the movie fails to access. I've never noticed her in anything before, but she's one to watch if this performance is any indication. But one great female role doesn't make up for the 90 minutes of baseline competence surrounding her.

Get ready for the best segue you've ever seen.

I M B R O G L I O. Imbroglio. (noun) Definition: an extremely confused, complicated, or embarrassing situation. Used in a Paragraph: I want you to look up at that screenshot of Kathryn Hahn again. Please notice the beam of wood obscuring the far right portion of the frame. This is but a minor example of a major imbroglio within the film. Bateman has a tendency to frame his characters behind other objects, sometimes creating an entirely distinct frame within the film's natural frame. I'm going to stop saying frame now. The point is, this technique can be used to great effect in pursuit of a thematic goal, but here it merely distracts, drawing attention to how threadbare the plot is. One gets the sense that Bateman knew this was a thing that happened in movies, but hadn't quite pieced together why. Kind of like the truly mortifying amount of slow motion I lathered into my homemade films in high school.

S O P H O M O R I C. Sophomoric. (adjective) Definition: of, relating to, or characteristic of a sophomore; juvenile. Used in a Paragraph: The film isn't all flaws though. I've already mentioned Hahn's terrific supporting performance. And a brief scene with Marzipan the Prostitute (Kimleigh Smith) is hysterical - yet another woman killing it in a small role; if we gather enough of them, maybe we can join forces and beat Hollywood into submission to finally give them leads. And the third act finally reaches a blissful balance between saccharine charm and acrid humor in the movie's best sequence. It's quickly derailed by a moment of sophomoric humor, but hey. At least anything worked out in this lumpier-than-my-grandpa's-disgusting-quinoa-barley-wheat-blend-oatmeal movie.

P L A T I T U D I N O U S. Platitudinous. (adjective) Definition: used too often to be interesting or thoughtful; hackneyed. Used in a Paragraph: Also, the music and cinematography come alive for exactly one pristine moment. So it's not a total bust. But with such a great crop of talent behind it, Bad Words has no excuse to be as platitudinous, bland, and sour as it is.

TL;DR: Bad Words is a disappointment, but it has some lighter moments and a couple great female performances.

Rating: 5/10

Word Count: 1235